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


Tuesday, Jan. 06, 2004 @ 5:05 pm
Snow Unbound



Coffee high, the two golden eagles riding the updrafts, watching over like before. Warm paper cups in hand we walk. A seal rolls in the kelp beds and buffleheads surface, oily feathers shedding water in the low winter sun. The clouds are condensing in the west and the air feels like snow. Snow creaks under between our feet and the grass, steam curling from her coffee and her misty breath mingle, words spoken.

I'm cracking the old textbooks, calling to round up the loaners, settling back into chemistry and mathematics. How long since you conversed with SINE or aldehyde? Numbers and arrows, I've missed using my brain.

Back to the jogging paths, snowy forests and frosty fern groves. You know it's all the same back here, in this mindset, where there's a real drive and determination to succeed. Because your mind can't grow if your body is soft. Because when you're hungry your mind eats up knowledge.

There's Paul, he's asking her if you're single. There's Josh, the strange vibes, and lo-and-behold he's asking you to the movies. It's punctuated equilibrium, everything happening at once after the long nothing.

And then the snows come and before the sun rises the snow billows down in the flood lights. Beside the dumpster, one hand gripping the knotted garbage bag, one hand shielding eyes from the light to watch the flakes swirl.

I'll show them. I crawl around picking up every.single.piece and survey my work. Spotless. My legs tired (as usual, it seems) from dancing and two-hours sleep. So what? I did it, I'll do it, but only because you need me and you pay me double minimum wage. And then you come in to tell me that I've been switched to the evening shift. Okay, okay, whatever, I'll do it.

After I go down the hall to visit Sarah. The old boss comes over and says Hey, how's the job? I say Fine. He says, I could probably give you a job again, you know. He shuffles to the left a little and his cheeks are that rosy lush red.

Last night I danced in stupid shoes and got snow between my toes. The lagoon is frozen and the duckies waddle around and get snow between their toes too.

I just found msn history between Chris and my sister.


Roots | Shoots