dcfk
It's all there. Hidden somewhere deep in where ever we keep what makes us. Our history. It says where we come from, where we've been, who we are. Every little bit of it makes us who we are. It defines us in ways that we can't quite put into words. We were made not from some magical design, but by the roads we have walked.
The boy stared up at the skeleton in complete and utter awe. Everything seemed to fit so wonderfully together. "Mama." He tugged on the blonde woman's hand. "Look." He pointed. "It's so big."
"It's a brontosaurus" She whispered into his ear.
There is a tugging at the corner of her lips. The boy across the bar is making silly faces. It's inappropriate to be laughing at some other man's jokes while the one in front of her is trying so hard for her attention, but it wasn't her fault that he was as interesting as dirt. The one across the bar is waiting for the other to leave so he can come up and introduce himself so he can make her smile for real.
He can feel her arms wrapped tightly around his torso. "don't ever scare me like that agin." She breaths into his neck. "I don't want to cuddle with a corpse."
He stood back from the group of people that had gathered around the gash in the ground. Watching in delight as the dark high shine box was lowered into the ground. Grinning, he made his way back to his car, and then to his home, so he could brag. So he could say "I did that. I killed that man."
He moved my fingers into different shapes. I copied the shapes he was making with his own hands. "What did I say?" I asked as he set his hands down on the table.
"Your name." He said, a little soft for the environment.
"How do you spell your name?" I asked and began to copy the shape of his hands once again.
It's a little like forgetting a good friend. Looking into a mirror and watching my face change. I can't remember what I looked like when I had a layer of baby fat over my face. Or what my eyebrow looked like before I had the scar running through it. I can't remember what the exact color of my hair before I started dying it.
"You're beautiful." He whispers into my ear as he looks at my reflection in the mirror.
"But was I always?"
The sound of chalk moving across a chalkboard came from the back of the room. I turned to see a boy working out a math problem out across. It was one of those slide-y chalkboards as well. All I could think was, he is much to small to be working such a long math problem.
The car crept past as a pace that a glacier would be envious of. The little boy clutching my hand tugged my down to his hight. "Why is that limo going so slow?" He asked as it rolled past us.
I pulled him close to me and wrapped my arms around him. "Oh, honey."
It was like one of those things they do in movies all the time. Where there are all these different moments from the person's life all pulled together to show some overall theme. I could see moments from my own life flicking before my eyes. The only thing different though was the fact that there seemed to be no overall theme to the moments flashing before my eyes as I flicked my lighter open and lit the end of my next cigarette.
writing since 2011 · 12 entries · 12 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Lucy showed up.
2longest streak
12days written
3entries / week
the words Lucy reaches for
boyhandfacedifferentmomentshandshatesideburnshairfaceshiddenpulledoverallthemeeyescar