Sunday, September 7, 2014
Sunday, August 31, 2014
She had lost count four times somewhere around 3,246 but her eyes were still stubbornly staring and there was not a single yawn threatening to escape from her lips. That was when she saw it, when she sat up, twisted her body around and titled her neck at a curious angle to stare at what shouldn't be there. A thin thread of light slipping in underneath her door. There were no muffled or whispered voices, no near or distance footfalls; only the light.
She tried to ignore it. She told herself to close her eyes and go back to her counting. She knew that was what she was supposed to do. Ignore the light that shouldn't be there. She tried.
The floor was cool against her bare feet as she slid out of bed and out of the room and down the hall. The house was almost entirely dark. There was a light, somewhere, that was struggling to make its way towards her but she could not make out its source. It was so faint she still could not even see her feet hitting the floor in front of her.
She walked toward the light because she couldn't think of a reason not to. If she could not make her body want to sleep than she might as well use it. Creeping through darkened corridors towards an unknown source of light was preferable to boredom. Anything was better than lying on her back staring up, unblinkingly, at an infinity of nothing. Again.
The light did not appear to be growing, nor did it diminish, it remained a constant question, a whisper she needed to lean in just a little further to hear. She kept walking. The path was clear even though she was ever unsure of what her next step should be.
She paused once; she stopped. She thought that maybe she should turn back. The girl turned around. Her feet fixing themselves in place, she twisted at the hips to get a look behind her. There was nothing there, only darkness like a wall. Even though somewhere inside her she knew that was where she had come from, she was afraid. The fear sent chills through her arms and she turned back towards the light. She didn't know where she was going or how far she had come, only that she needed to go forward until she figured it out.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Sunday, August 17, 2014
This is the moment they're always talking about in movies. The sun is rising behind her face, tendrils of light touching on her hair so that blonde is transformed to gold; she glitters as she starts to wake up.
Sarah turns toward me, scrunching down our sleeping bag with her caterpillar crawl so that goosebumps spread out across my bare shoulders. But I don't mind. She smiles with her eyes closed, yawns, full mouth to the world, and when she presses into me all of the chill is gone. The goosebumps remain.
I stare at the golden glow of her, the light that I have to remind myself that she is borrowing. Somehow though, I feel that she would be luminous even in the pitch black of a cave. Science be damned.
This is the moment, the 'I just knew' moment that reaches back and rewrites history so that from now on I feel as if somehow, some part of me has always 'just known.'
Sarah mumbles something into my chest and it takes every ounce of willpower I've ever earned to peel myself away from her. I pull on jeans, grab a t-shirt and step out of the tent to start a fire for breakfast. I'm making pancakes if I can ever figure out how any of this is supposed to work. Sarah is walking towards me before the kindling even starts to smoke. As soon as she takes over, sparks fly up.
Her blue eyes are grey as she holds a hand up to shield them from the fire and the sun fighting to get to her through the trees. She is full of such surprising beauty in even the smallest moments that I swear I'm going to burst trying to breathe it all in.
I want to spend the rest of my life in this moment. Armageddon will come and go and we'll still be here standing between the fire she built and the tent I didn't quite put together right, feeling the universe move through us.
I have just enough breath for one word. "Pancakes?"
Her smile is mysterious and sad and gone from the right side of her mouth before the left side knows what it's doing.
"You didn't pack the griddle."
"I remembered the blueberries though, your favorite. We could walk into town, buy a griddle."
"Or just forget the pancakes. There's plenty else we-"
I step towards her and she backs away. She stumbles but catches herself before falling towards the flames.
"I really should be getting home."
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Thursday, February 21, 2013
The first time I saw Les Mis I was 15. Orchestra Right. Row H. First seat in from the middle aisle. By this time I had the entire libretto memorized and as the overture began I gripped both armrests tightly because, sitting there, I knew that I could run and jump on stage before anyone would be able to stop me. They would pull me away and put me in handcuffs immediately and, since this was a school trip, I’m pretty sure I would have been suspended.