Stream of Consciousness
The Things We Remember Differently
I remember the silence beginning on a Sunday. He remembers it beginning long before that. It's strange how two people can spend hours talking, share laughter, exchange affection, and build a routine that feels almost sacred, only to look back and discover they were living two entirely different stories.
By The Kind Quillabout 8 hours ago in Humans
The Dime and the Glass Door
Every time I walked into my grandpa's automotive shop as a kid, I needed a dime. Not a quarter. Not a dollar. A dime. That was the price of admission to the best part of the whole building, and I knew it before I knew how to tie my shoes right.
By Overdrive Records2 days ago in Humans
The Night the Beads Never Moved
He still tells it the same way every time someone asks about their mother’s last Christmas. She asked for the Rosary, he says. Right after the dishes were done. She was in the chair by the window with the old afghan across her lap. She looked at both of us and said we should pray before she got too tired. So we did. All five decades of the Joyful Mysteries. She held the beads herself for the first two. Her hands shook, but she kept going. When they finished she touched his hand, then his sister’s, and told them to take care of each other. After that she closed her eyes for a little while. When she opened them she asked if anyone wanted more coffee. Ordinary. Peaceful. The way he needs the night to have ended.
By Overdrive Records3 days ago in Humans
Drained
Being in love with someone who is not ready for you is the most difficult thing. Going back to a career you gave up years ago because your family forced you to and it was the only way to get out from under them is even harder. Standing up to and breaking up with a narcissistic abuser who wasted 9 years of your life only to end up never wanting to have sex with you, or give you any kind of physical or emotional love is one of the biggest and hardest challenges I've ever faced, and that relationship took everything from me, drained me, right for me to step back into a draining atmosphere with my narcissistic family, and then a draining job. I fell in love with a man who is so drained by his surroundings that he can't be with me, and that drains me. And then it takes everything within me just to deal with and teach this new generation of kids.
By Slgtlyscatt3red4 days ago in Humans
The Last Christmas Eve
He always starts the story the same way. She asked for the Rosary that night, he says. Right after we finished the dishes. She was sitting in the old chair by the window, the one with the crocheted afghan. She looked at both of us and said, Let’s pray before I get too tired. And we did. All five decades of the Joyful Mysteries. She held the beads herself for the first two decades. Her hands were shaking, but she kept going.
By Overdrive Records4 days ago in Humans
