warm guns

Posted by on Oct 12, 2012 in Blog | Comments Off on warm guns

warm guns

Elastic days of summer, family spread out on beach blankets, squinting hard, we lay on our tanned bellies reading Betty and Veronica comics.  Licking salt from our fingers before we dive them into bags of (sandy) chips and peel hard boiled eggs.  Here, sounds of gulls, far off boat engines.

I’m staying up and running through the night, joining in the friendly symphony of laughter, feeling the warm air tickle my arms as we drive.  Yellow line, yellow line, yellow line.  Noticing the stars.  Excited and anxious, feeling at once small and at the center of everything.

A streetcar ride home in the early evening darkness.  Cold air slips in the open window, squeals of breaks bid welcome and good night.  A feeling of being perfectly in place.  Headscarf, fedora, uniform, converse, sequins.  A short walk home.  Finally, perfectly in place.

I wake up in the single bed tucked in the front room and lay still in the thick darkness.  Ocean roaring, creatures chirping, palm leaves scrape the roof.  I’m no longer dreaming, but I close my eyes and can still see the beast that followed me, horns curved, smooth and pointed.  A ball of light inside me now, a solar fire of 140 beats per minute.  I listen to my breath and notice a heaviness is gone.  You bowed your head and took it with you, my burden.

Dancing towards you, then away from you, then towards you again.  Friends scattered, heads thrown back.  Loud music, every song is exactly what it should be.  We all wonder about midnight.  Y2K.

Not the smile, the skipping step, the excited laughter, all so easily snuffed out with every unexpected gust.  Instead a stirring, a recognition that life feels right, that it fits.  A welcomed reminder of being alive.  Happiness.

 

 

 

All content by Lisa Veronese. Please do not publish or copy my material without my consent.