one page of the album
something that came from the writers weekend. Funny the stuff you remember about yourself, when you’re looking at someone else’s photo.
It was always red t-shirt day when it was sunny.
Dad had just gotten the new car the day before that picture was taken. He said he’d finally found something to be proud of. You can see it lurking over my shoulder, although at least you can’t tell if it’s angry or sad.
The way you could tell with him…well it’s all in the eyebrows, seen in the shiny black plastic crop of the rear vision mirror. Brows relaxed and eyes tight means I’ve done something that got in the way again. That’s when I have to be bright and happy to make up for it. To be a good little girl. Be big. Be happy. Smile til my face hurts from the effort, and laugh at everything whether it’s funny or not.
The closer the eyebrows get, the smaller I have to become. As transparent and tiny as a speck of glass. Something you would get caught in your shoe, if you weren’t careful where you stepped. Irritating, but not significant enough to cut or scar.
I look happy, in that picture.
I’m good at looking happy.
Holly Ringland
i felt this in all the fibers and vessels that lead to my heart, lucky duck.
bellmusker
The closer the eyebrows get, the smaller I have to become.
I’m with Holly…..so much said in only two hundred words. X
Jason Moses
Lucky, it hurts, but I hope it’s liberating to say it.