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Blogs > wickedeasy > wicked and that ain't so easy |
Whither thou goest
Whither thou goest In the dark of night, the long hours before dawn, sleep eluded her. She lay still, quiet, adrift in the memories that clung to this place, the walls that remembered the peals of laughter as clearly as they recalled the sharpness of doors slamming, sobs swallowed down dry throats. A house is a living thing, made up of sounds and smells of wet dogs, burnt toast, dinners served, ’s’ sweaty summer bodies ripened in the sun, the walls holding all of it in; filling it to bursting with life’s energy, with love, tears, hope, pain, joy, anger, pettiness. A house is only as good, or as bad as that which kisses or kicks at its walls. When all the living in it is done, a house no longer breathes. Rising from the futility of a sleep never coming, she moved through the empty rooms, her hands brushing against this or that, touchstones in the dark, no light needed to guide her to the door leading out to the porch where she stood, arms wrapped round, her hands resting at her neck. She stared across the land, this land that had been her life. This place she had come to as a young woman; where she had borne three , been loved as she had never believed she would be loved. She had fought this land, bringing it to its knees more than once, it bringing it to hers so often she'd lost count. Beside her man. A man who she hungered after. The night was lifting around her. Breakfast to be made, to tend to… Her heart flew from her, chasing after him even as she turned to the door; her hand ran along the shingling....... a caress. You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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when my uncle died, his farm was sold. he was only 47. he died in the fields, haying, his sons beside him. i stood with my cousin at his wake. her hands dug deep half moons into my palms as she thanked every person for coming. the line took nearly 7 hours to run clear. she never sat down. my mother stayed there at the farm for a month with my baby brother, helping . the world was upside down. daddy took us out on weekends. it was a terrible thing to be in that house. like all the air had been sucked out....my cousins took to sleeping in the hayloft. and me and my sister with them. piled like kittens. just no mama cat to keep us warm.....the mothers had nothing in them to give. You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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Haunted bathrooms are the worst. People are strange when you're a stranger."
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No, no you don't. You're already too tolerant. Become a member now and get a free tote bag.
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This is beautiful, wicked. I know just how this feels, and you expressed it wonderfully. Become a member now and get a free tote bag.
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Making self-serving, self-righteous comments is everyone's perogative. I take no offense. People are strange when you're a stranger."
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Another well written piece. I can feel the emotions as if I was there. Kudos to you!
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This is so hauntingly beautiful. Makes the emotions a reality you can taste and feel. Simpy terrific post (Virtual Symposium Group) use Virtual Symposium Group
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An impossible emptiness to fill... Vive La Difference
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