November 20, 2009

This is what happens when I stop caring about plot. :D (not-edited nano snippet)

“Would you like to meet my family?” Adrienne finally asked. Corrie turned down a corner of the city with Adrienne’s invitation, and they walked together for a short while until they came to an open door and a smiling mother holding a baby.

“This is my mother,” adri said. “And my baby brother, Norin.”

A smile played on Corrie’s lips. She loved little children, babies especially. “Can I hold him?” she asked.

“You may,” answered Adri’s mother, smiling and with small fady eyes that seemed not to see, and with a yellowish-peachy face. She passed Corrie the child, and Corrie held him with as skillful hands as an eleven-year-old could have. She looked at his face, and saw in it not the usual sweetness that most babies seemed to have, but rather a fierce expression was on his face. His hair spiked out in rebellious blond streaks, and his hand clutched something tightly. Corrie thought it was a stick, but upon closer inspection, she realized it was no stick from a tree but rather a twisted knot of straw, matching his hair. Norin was an interesting sort of fellow, seeming to embody the phrase, “angsty peasant.”

“How old is he, Adrienne?” Corrie asked, not saying any of her first impressions about the child.

Adri’s mother answered quickly instead, saying, “He’s four months old.” Adrienne piped up to add to that. She said, “the little dear. Isn’t he sweet, Corrie?”

Corrie was strangely repulsed by their affection: perhaps it was the mother’s manner that turned her off, perhaps it was her own personal struggles that clouded her vision, but she did feel put off. She held it in again- it was strange, recently she had seemed to say so little, when she was usually so impatient and spoke whenever she had the chance. But that wasn’t quite true, either, she thought again. She was quite quiet around her family. Strange… But as she thought all of this, she heard her own voice say, “he is.” Her voice, come to save her when her mind was somewhere else. It did that often, and she felt as if she had accidentally lied.

“Well, let me show you and let you meet the rest of my family,” Adri said, brightly, seeming not to notice Corrie except as a general human who could see her treasures. Adrienne clearly loved her family a great deal, and was proud of them, she thought highly of them, even more so than she did of the general public, whom she already thought much of. Adrienne was an affectionate and impulsive child, but ultimately a loyal one. She was ready to care about whoever needed help, although sometimes her love got in the way seeing people clearly. Ah, subtext, ah situation, ah the blindness of touchy-feely people.

Corrie walked through another room, through the humble little house. Adrienne, like a museum curator, pointed to a room with an open door. “This is my sister’s room,” she said. “Can I go in?”

“Yes, I don’t think she would mind. Right now she is probably outside.”

Corrie stepped into the room and as soon as she entered, her eyes were captured by the posters on the brown walls. Or rather, they were paste-on letter, in various fonts, sprawled, scribbled, sprayed, dancing and speaking on the walls, for all who saw her to see, but yet frozen there as a solid expression of the sister’s mind.

Corrie wanted to read every word they said, but first asked Adri what her sister’s name was. “Lynne,” she said.

Then Corrie returned to read the splash. The first word that jumped out at her was “love.” Then she read the phrase that it belonged to: it said, “SiNG ThiS LOVESiCK MELODY.” And in curly purple letters on the left side of the room, she read, “please. don’t. let. me. go.” Gold paint illustrated the words, “call my name if you’re afraid, I’m just a kiss away.” Corrie turned her head around, her eyes swimming with the words… It was like poetry that she could not get her mind into. Bewildering, soaring above her, every word shooting into her being, nearly overwhelming her with its sweetness and the emotions Corrie had never felt.

please. don't. let. me. go.

(do you miss the way the world was spinning for us?)

[ save your heart for someone who leaves you

breathless ]

>>so satisfying &+ i'm still smiling<<

{this was supposed to be the easy part...

all my love will slowly fade and fall apart.

someone, please.

SiNG THiS LOVESiCK MELODY.

call my name if you're afraid,

i'm just a kiss away.}

And they danced above her, they soared and twisted in Lynne’s mind, only Corrie could not reach them. She felt again like an unknowing, unwise, eleven year old. What was this ­love that she had not known? What was this longing? What was this existence? Did Lynne really believe everything she wrote? Who was the one she was lovesick about? Why would she splatter such fragile sayings into permanent paint?


And at the same time as her pause and hesitation and wondering, she was drawn to it, drawn to the passion! The depth, the color, the life. She felt as if this heart – love – pain – joy – emotion – was all about something that she had not known, but desperately wanted to experience. It was all as if (this was all she could compare it to, really) she was being nudged by the warm face of a horse, coming up to her side and touching her. Or, maybe it was more like the breathless feeling she got when she was running outside and came home to a warm and toasty house. No, that was not it. But all of it was warmth, not a stagnant heavy warmth but a thrilling and sudden warmth, a rush of feeling, the magic of closeness and knowledge and blind touch.


“Are you coming?” Adrienne said, interrupting Corrie’s stares and symphony.


“Yeah,” Corrie answered, and shut the door, closing the colorful fascinating world.

0 comments: