Cemetaries are similar to the grassy maps we carry.
We have our own boxes stored with decaying past.
Burying our glimpses of life.
Perserving to visit on days of anniveraries, birthdays, dead love affairs.
Maybe like into bones, when we are older, the past becomes hard
and silent.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Thursday, November 1, 2007
"Halloween Around The Lake." rough draft
I took them out in the wild wind. Twiggy, the girl scout, the brownie and the pirate . The condos around the man made lake were dressed in the American dream. Each with numerous pumpkins carved to dance with the candlelight inside, cobwebs, and creepy ghosts hanging from long branched trees.
The girls knocked in unison, singing " trick or treat", while I embraced the inside of places I have only seen at expensive resturants. Family together, smiling like the 1950's. Fathers, mothers, even grandparents all gathered in costumes and camera flash.
I was proud with my group of girls. They all had snappy comments of the boys in the neighborhood. The pirate text messaged as she dragged her sack of candy and told us all about her friend at home sad with no one to go out with. The girls included me. Everytime some candy giver asked if I wanted a piece, they replied, "She is allergic."
An hour passed and the brownie felt adventerous. A short cut through the tiny patch of woods which surrounded the lake seemed like a scary idea. This was the time when stomachs started to hurt and the thoughts of going home became the
topic of conversation. I hardly make promises, but I told them they would be safe with me. Little did I know at the end of our short cut was a Halloween tribute to the a fear the girls all possess, a stalking clown. I was grabbed by the girl scout. Lost sight of the pirate. Twiggy went home, but the brownie charged at the clown. "I know you, you go to my school!" she yelled directly into his make up bloody eyes. "I am not afraid of you, in fact, give me a high five." The girl scout and I watched as the two scary and sweet slapped hands. Then it was my turn. Out of the night came a werewolf. Maybe it was the cat ears I was wearing, he barked at me. The clown was circling us, as we all stood watching these two creatures believing for this night, they were real.
........to be continued..boo
The girls knocked in unison, singing " trick or treat", while I embraced the inside of places I have only seen at expensive resturants. Family together, smiling like the 1950's. Fathers, mothers, even grandparents all gathered in costumes and camera flash.
I was proud with my group of girls. They all had snappy comments of the boys in the neighborhood. The pirate text messaged as she dragged her sack of candy and told us all about her friend at home sad with no one to go out with. The girls included me. Everytime some candy giver asked if I wanted a piece, they replied, "She is allergic."
An hour passed and the brownie felt adventerous. A short cut through the tiny patch of woods which surrounded the lake seemed like a scary idea. This was the time when stomachs started to hurt and the thoughts of going home became the
topic of conversation. I hardly make promises, but I told them they would be safe with me. Little did I know at the end of our short cut was a Halloween tribute to the a fear the girls all possess, a stalking clown. I was grabbed by the girl scout. Lost sight of the pirate. Twiggy went home, but the brownie charged at the clown. "I know you, you go to my school!" she yelled directly into his make up bloody eyes. "I am not afraid of you, in fact, give me a high five." The girl scout and I watched as the two scary and sweet slapped hands. Then it was my turn. Out of the night came a werewolf. Maybe it was the cat ears I was wearing, he barked at me. The clown was circling us, as we all stood watching these two creatures believing for this night, they were real.
........to be continued..boo
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