The smell of fresh-brewed coffee is following me around today; the scent catches me unaware as I walk, as I lean over the desk and my hair falls softly over my shoulder, it is only a passing distraction so I twist and turn its brown locks into a knot held only by my chewed blue pen.
Last night I was alone in the house for what seemed like the first time in years. I felt the need to keep moving, to stay busy, to quell the monsters of the mind before the rioting could escape into the world.
I'd found a box of old pictures given back to me by an aging grandmother who lives far away. One photo album held all she ever knew of me. My mom and dad's wedding pictures, the baby shower celebrating me, family gatherings from two to four, then long spans of nothing. A school picture from second, fourth and fifth grade. A single picture of me at twelve or thirteen and then, nothing, like I didn't exist in between times, or thereafter.
Strange looking at that little being with the deep blue eyes and wondering if the person in my head today really is the same person there must have been long before the first hazy memories come in.
In each picture I see the same baby-blonde hair, the big blue eyes directly gazing at the camera, the gangly body that doesn't quite fit, yards of frothy pink lace lying gently at the knee and dainty black Mary Jane's with a delicate strap.
Who is that person? I wonder, shaking my head. The image of that feminine young thing jangles harshly against my current self-concept. Dainty straps are weak and trecherous, I've chosen strength of will and depth of character instead of mere fripperies.
But the eyes, the eyes give it away every time. There is no doubt that she is me and that she shared the same outlook and soul of the person that I know today. It is suddenly clear that this mind was shaped long before it found itself in the body.
Even when directly assessing the camera, some part of her is standing back and observing the scene, cataloging the moment, reserving judgment, mentally playing somewhere else where no one can follow.
Today is the celebration of that discovery. I please myself and maybe that is enough. I can't be blonde or sweet or feminine because you want me to be. I choose to be me and today that is going to be a brown-haired Amazon with hair in plaited braids flowing down her back, a far off expression on her face; maybe you'll look and you'll see she's gone to play where none can follow.
Come back tomorrow, I'll still be me, will you know me then?
Author notes
Random thoughts about life
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Sorry, I'm running late this week. Playing catch up was never my thing.
Personally, I found this a very sad idea. The Grandmother alive all those years of the child's growing, and never establishing a relationship. Did she try? Did she care? I so loved my Gran.
So you didn't write this about Grandmothers, strange how certain things can grab a reader, even when they are not intended to.
Seems you picked up some nice reviews on the subject you were presenting--Yourself--smile.
This shows nicely in the story.
Geri
beginning: 4, language: 4, plot: 4, ending: 4.
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Thank you, you are right it certainly needs some grammatical work! I'll try to fix it up tomorrow!
~Six -
Your first paragraph is a run on sentence. Also in places it's a little wordy.
I have a couple suggestions (if you use them it's up to you.)
"is following me" I would change to "follows me," I would also remove the word "today." Then you need to remove the comma after walk and insert a fullstop after shoulder. Lastly there should be a comma after knot.
Second paragraph needs a comma after house.
You start off in present tense then go to past. This gets a little confusing.
Strange looking at that little
should have a comma after strange
You keep going with run on sentences which makes reading and getting into the story a little difficult.
Unless it's in thought or dialogue, "and" or "but" shouldn't start sentences. I suggest rewording, unless it can be joined with the sentence before.
You've got a good grasp of the idea. It's also obvious you thought about what you were trying to express. A bit of tweaking could only enhance what you have already. Keep up the good work. -
Excellent use of language. Very personal and quite emotional, I thought. I wrote a poem once about something similar to this. Excellent!
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its' should be its.
Other than that, fantastic and introspective. Loved it a lot! Old photos really can bring that kind of thing out in a person. -
To be continued.
And is that what you still do today?: Assess the camera? Stand back? Observe the scene? Catalogue the moment? Reserve judgement? Mentally play somewhere else...where no one is nor can follow? Yes...I think so. I don't see the eyes...but I sense the distance...the standing back. The reserve...ah. The reserve! -
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I added some to it, just a random bit when I had a few minutes to spare at work, glad you stopped in to say hi. Reserved? I don't know. I guess I could ask people what they think of me who are just getting to know me and see what they say...at work, in school, with friends and acquaintances I can pretty much talk anyone under the table--but I get truly close to people very slowly. The funny thing is most of my writing (not for contests and such) is very open and honest, a reflection of me in my poetry on allpoetry especially it is like my heart is an open book, I didn't write any of it to share, it just decided to post it later.
I'm not sure about you, but I write for me and if others like it, great, if not, oh well. I do take suggestions when I can, but the essense of what I decide to write is still me.
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