Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Chapter One

The only clothes I wore were his arms around me. I was cold, but I didn't tell him. His skin warmed me on the hard wooden chair we shared. 3 a.m., work at 9-what was I doing listening to his songs on an old tape-recorder in his shabby bungelow? All I felt was love.

*****

I had to stop cleaning. I do that, you know, when my mind races and my blood boils and I don't want anyone to know that I am not normal. With each shiny surface comes a victory., an immediate signpost of "I'm OK".

Why, as I scrubbed, did I hear a faint song?

2 comments:

  1. please keep writing & expressing yourself in this way. it is among the most powerful of your connective tissues to your growth. love, js

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