SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Day Fifteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Fourteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Thirteen - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019
Atonement - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019


Thursday, Apr. 10, 2003 @ 7:50 pm
The Last Day



Luck. Everything is going so well in life. It all works out.

When I could hardly ask for more, I am embraced and pulled and into an intense warmth. An unexpected warmth for sure, and a warmth that lingers upon me even now.

It was the product of a long day at the Fair. You know how it is, the people, the laughter and the alcohol. It was a little different this year. I went alone.

But alone I was not. I could have spent forever in there, slip-sliding over the muddy grass, hop-skipping through the bouncy bushes, bouncing indeed between groups of friends. Sublime happiness. Even before the inflatable carnival fun. Bounce, bounce, bungee cords, bushes...

When the alcohol begins to seep out into your arms, you begin to hug everyone. Anyone. Tearful hugs, fears of neverending absences. And then I hugged just the right person.

And he held on. And we stumbled together into the deepest centre of the crowd, blinded by the purple lights that are the magic of the Fair.

He brings his mouth to my neck and says, "Remember when we went climbing in grade 11? I had such a big crush on you then."

And then everything comes into focus. Over his shoulder I'm looking straight into the blank face of him. I close my eyes and try not to think about the decision I just made. And we are drawn though the crowd, away from them, alone. His hands never leave me, and he fumbles for my hands. My cheek skims by his and we both pause, an instant, a knowing instant.

In that instant I thought about all the times in the past that I've been with him. Back when I rode, I remember spying at him through the bars of Vegas's stall as I brushed the horse's tail. I watched him brushing Ben; I watched his hands on the reins when we shoulder passed in the arena. It was Oasis on the barn tapedeck. That night is exactingly clear to me. How I watched him.

And then my mind is back in my head and the music beats loud. My eyes are closed against the spotlights. I feel his breath on my face.

I woke up this morning and he was touching my face and tucking my hair behind my ear.


(PS: Classic ACF)


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