Recent Entries Garion born; thinking of doing video logs - 2012-09-01 I'm married, I'm a prospective father, wow I never update - 2012-05-22 Got the job at the NIA; mother complicates wedding plans - 2011-10-13 Scrawl - 2011-08-05 It's never been better - 2011-06-02
|
Antz and a time half forgotten (part 2 of 2) 2002-08-04 - 6:23 p.m. 
I passed by a beautiful two story manor house done in brick, the driveway bricked out in a half circle from one side to another. Rose bushes crept alongside them, small narrow things. I stopped and starred on. The lantern lights brought me someplace else, with the neat green on the earth and the roses. Then I noticed something different and my eyes caught sight of a person. I couldn't see her head but she was crouched down, her head near between her knees. A midair ritual of sadness save her raised feet. I wanted to stand there and have some startled episode that'd allow me to ask if she was alright, but this isn't the age for that sortof action. I walked on a bit but stayed, the opposing sidewalk catching my eye in an awkward, clear moment. She went inside, very slowly, and with the last rattle of keys turned off the lights. The place held no more meaning to me.Walking along the parkway/parking lot of my high school I felt safe but lost. I kept imagining myself walking into the principal's office, asking permission to walk around, see old teachers. It couldn't happen in summer but that didn't occur to me as the heavy flood lights beat down on the asphalt. The place was an apparition, I with it, both at a loss for the fact they were there but had no discernable purpose. Up along the buildings I walked, remembering when it was time to leave and briskly not paying attention to the strutting cocks and good-natured laughter at things. I wondered how many people had done what I was doing, like a sortof pilgrimage or a visit to a home you lived in. Leaving there I felt lighter somehow. Of the memories that came back, most were good ones. I don't casually remember good things. It was a good change. I have more stories to write and the overdue, pregnantly late task of DMV book mastery. Still, if good things happened then they can happen later and even now perhaps. Mo bhancharaid math. It means happiness to me. Doesn�t matter what it actually means, I just have something to be happy and thankful for. Both that and you, all of you. Thank you.
|
