courtneydoe
I had never heard the phrase 'cosmopolitan' until I entered college. It seemed as though everyone around me- with the exception of myself, of course- had traveled abroad. Had met someone European. And then there's me. I went to Alaska once.
My father raised my sister and I in Arizona, just outside of Phoenix. We lived in a duplex on Luke Air Force Base, just the three of us. I remember the days that we would play outside, or watch Disney movies on the VCR, or eat popsicles together. And I remember the lemon tree my father planted the year we moved there, and how it died the year we left.
It's 8:30 which means breakfast, but I am sitting alone in the kitchen. The light is off, the stove is off...there is no crinkling sound of bacon cooking, or my mother's padded feet scurrying about the kitchen as she puts the coffee on. No, there is just me sitting here and wondering what the hell the sensible thing to do is the morning after your mother was murdered.
i wrote about incubator yesterday. Is there a new word today? When will I hope to see another word? I like the word incubator, I think it has great potential for metaphor. It can be life giving and life saving. But I really would like to write about something, anything else. ?
Sometimes I still feel the warm surface of the incubator as it kept the body of my baby girl warm and dry, her little face hidden beneath a tiny mask that helped her breathe. She was such a tiny thing, so perfect in every way. But so sick. So doomed.
writing since 2013 · 6 entries · 4 days shown up
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incubatorpheasantswordchickensdrywarmtinysittingkitchenfatheroutsideremembergradebiologyhatchedbunch