In Honor of Spatial Silence
i stay up all night with the stars and sleep with sunlit clouds cascading down my back.




Thursday, December 6, 2007
distance is no reason for such infidelities

in my wrifict class, we were once asked to take a significant incident from a child's life and create a story out of it from the point of view of that child. this is what i came up with. who knew it would really happen...

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i am turning eight tomorrow. mommy says it's supposed to be fun when someone turns eight. i don't know. my older brother said something else but i couldn't understand it. mommy's braiding my hair you see. we're going to buy my birthday dress. it's important that i wear a dress for my birthday. i'm going to be a princess. daddy said i could be, he even bought me a crown, but brother calls it something else i can't pronounce.

mommy left the crown on top of my dresser, she said it'll be safe there. i don't think it's safe there, it looks like it might fall. i don't want it to fall, it might break - and daddy, boy! what will daddy say?

mommy, not too tight, you're making my head feel all funny.

mommy's still braiding my hair. it doesn't usually take this long but mommy said she has something in her eyes. maybe my hair is poking her. i'm sorry, it don't mean to. it's just that my hair - it always gets in the way. i don't like it. i wish mommy would hurry up so we can leave. i want to choose my dress and wear my crown and maybe - maybe my brother will dance with me. he used to dance with me. he doesn't now, ever since daddy brought home my crown and told me he has to go on a trip. but he promised he'd be here for my birthday. he promised.

i told mommy he'd be back soon but she said the crown should still remain on top of the dresser. i don't want it on top. i want it beside my bed so i can see it when i wake up. but mommy said it's not possible. i don't understand. why can't brother carry it down for me? mommy said brother can't reach it. i don't believe her.

will you dance with me?

my brother just entered the room. he looks funny - his nose is all red. maybe when mom's done with your hair, he said. i almost couldn't hear him, he was talking to his hands. he always does that now, like he wants to sneeze.

mommy, not too tight.

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what kills me most is how my sister won't ever get to know the father (i can't bring myself to call him that) i once knew. happy birthday mommy. happy 8th birthday lyshiel. christmas won't be the same...nor us.

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