In between the latticework of a crowded calendar, they found gaps, slipped through them in search of adventure. They took photos on the other side of the fence and brought them back—they didn’t want to be the only ones who saw what was most interesting. Each time they escaped, she glanced back, surprised again and again by how easy it was, by how much more exhilarating to live like this, out in the greener grass, the bluer sky, the place where her heart felt safe for the first time in years.
Archive for the ‘Kind of true’ Category
Expatriate
March 18, 2011I love this city’s smell, the low-slung skyline that, in fog, could almost be Paris, the earnest agitation of people for whom ordinary days involve world leaders, or, at least, their staff. But that figure waving across the street could be someone I know, or just the spectre of then—I have become the outsider here, unsure of my footing.
When are you coming back? my friends ask.
I’m not, I reply.
I was born within this city’s borders, but learned to be an expatriate early. I can return home for a visit, but am not home at all.
In miracles we trust
March 10, 2011In miracles we trust, casting small stones and tattered feathers in the dirt at our feet. Cross fingers for changes or blow the seedpods off a dandelion–both could produce results like weeds.
But this is not a deus ex machina world. When rabbits emerge from hats, it probably means we should have been checking sleeves the whole time.
Base-10
March 2, 2011What time is it? he asked.
11:11, I replied. Make a wish.
I wish people would stop assigning superstitious associations with things just because we have a Base-10 numerical system, he replied.
Sound solution
February 26, 2011A string of words, winding from lip to ear, is not string at all, nor train (of thought), nor line (of conversation). It is sound waves, moving through the medium that, on this night, is denser than most. The waves oscillate between us, but arrive, somehow, at an unexpected angle.
We are smart people, he says. We can figure this out. And it is true. We already hold tuning forks, pitch pipes, and metronomes. We have arrived at this conversation holding in our hearts and heads all we need to know about the fluid dynamics of sound.
Weather like this
February 16, 2011In weather like this, pilots redirect their paths, swinging their wide-bodied jets over the hills and approaching the airport abnormally.
Just to let you know, folks, they say over loudspeakers. Because of the wind, we’re doing things a little differently tonight.
Extraordinary guest
February 14, 2011My heart is as mysterious as an underwater cavern, and often as unfathomable. Secrets glide through like pale fish in the gloom as one navigates unexpected outcroppings. At the very bottom, silt blooms to clouds, obscures the liquid landscape, then settles again.
For years, I kept this environment hostile to exploration—reefs damaged by careless swimmers needed time to repair. But tides shift, even when I wasn’t watching for a change in levels.
I never believed I would extend such an invitation to the depths only I know. But I never expected to find such an extraordinary guest.
100 Proof 