SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Saturday, Sept. 28, 2002 @ 10:44 am
Little Miss Muffet



Spiders are spinning webs all through the barns. In the morning sunlight, their long legs weave together great curving nets.

Their intricate webwork mirrors closely the overs and unders in my own twisted world.

Everything is in place, though. The stars lined up bing bang boom. This is how I know:

Go where you don't know a soul and reinvent yourself.

So I went. See, HE'd invited me out to a party. HIM. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. We were cycling home, the usual banter, the usual laughter. "But I won't know anyone!" "But you'll know me."

There he stands, handing me his phone number and the address to the party, my insides absolutly tingling with excitement.

That horoscope. The stars. Bing bang boom.

I had a great time. Oh yeah. I had a broccoli-tickle fight with some guy. I ate a sausage straight from the BBQ on a fork.

There was no way I could drive home. Can you see where this is heading? I fell asleep with his smell, his arms, his warmth surrounding me. He told me things that I could not have imagined coming from him.

The web is tangling. Work. Him. Me. His girlfriend.

Guilt is sloshing over me. Wave over wave. It should be him that decides who he's with, what he does, right? No. I am wrong. This is wrong. He'd do this to me too. But he won't, because despite the stars lining up for one night, they will have shifted by Monday.

I'm caught. The silver threads are cocooning me. He's there, his arms touching me, turning me over... It's his game now. He can keep me or he can cut me free, falling away, but still, falling head over heels, I'm falling whichever way he chooses.


Roots | Shoots