There was as a buzz of excitement in my world, my mother was traveling from Chicago to pick me up so I can go to stay with her and my little sister in Chicago (apparently I have a little brother too, but I never met him). Grams had managed to find my a full luggage…
Tag: home
Doll House
So all year the focus was on miniature furniture. There was an antique sewing machine, a mahogany dining table with chairs, a four poster bed and a kitchen table. I then watched Grams make table clothes, small bath towels with tiny pink flowers and linens. I watched the collection grow bigger every month. She would polish every piece and place them in shoeboxes. I was always impressed with the details put into every item. I wonder what type of person had that much patience and creativity to be able to create every item. I was convinced at one point that there was a factory of little elves making warehouse filled with manicure furniture.
A place to call home
I used to imagine that the splattered seeds mixed with the green and white chunks of Osage-orange flesh were what brains on the pavement would look like. I thought that until a few kids and I stumbled on a bunch of blood and what appeared to be brain matter on the ground behind a building on our walk to school just about a week before. It was not the same, at all! We, I mean I, poked at some of the larger greyish chunks with a pencil from my bag. I was so fascinated by the soft and delicateness of it. It didn’t seem reasonable that this soft fragile mass could be the source of who we were. I could not comprehend what happened to the magic of the memories, thoughts, and love as the neurons that produced them lay in the street.
