It's a shame the things you hide behind it... [Jude]
The girl sat alone at the table; close enough that her elbows gained stability from the thick glass top yet far enough to keep her legs free from inadvertently kicking the base of it. Head tilted forward, hands clamped over her ears, the tears flowed in hot saline trails, ultimately coming to rest in asymmetrical pools of moist, shimmering light on the surface below. In that moment, there was less fear, more disbelief. Either way she knew this was all her doing. Hers were the only shoulders this surreal burden would come to rest upon.
When the reason for this morphing new reality became clear, she knew she was the only one to blame. Recollection reminded that she was always one to feel alot and often rather intensely. Occasionally that build up required an outlet of sorts and resulted in conversations with others that would, with a little luck, temporarily ease her internal conflict, if even for a moment. But the day eventually came when she simply couldn't do it any longer - this sharing of herself, admitting her deepest, most fragile feelings - this sense of burdening others. A vow was made: no more.
From that moment on she'd kept it all in. Until now.
When she sat down to balance her checkbook, as always, she found her mind wandering. It wasn't painful, really; just a peculiar, slithery sensation that caused her to brush absently at her ear. When the slight movement caught her eye she could not quite make sense of what she was actually seeing. Letters. Everywhere. Piling and tumbling as if the typeset tray from an old printing press had capsized; on the table, her lap, the floor...
Immediate shock gave way to curiosity and she saw it wasn't just letters; there were words, followed by sentences. She knew them. Intimately. These were the words she vowed to hold in endlessly. With that thought the literary flood gates opened and the words stacked high, partially occluding her view. Windows cracked, doors bulged and she had no idea how or when this would end. Her hands went instinctively to her ears to stop this uninvited deluge but that only rerouted them through her nose.
Her head shook side to side in denial with that realization but the motion only caused the words to slip in her tears and collide with one another with soft thuds and audible crunches. Now she knew why she never balanced her checkbook.
~
19 comments:
What very musical tears.
"Windows cracked, doors bulged and she had no idea how or when this would end."
How strangely real...
That is fiction, right?
Yipe! That was creepy/surreal/word-play funny all at the same time. Which is a good thing. ;-)
Pretty and scary!
It looks like Anne beat me to the punch - that was my thought, too.
That was great, but I would ezpect no less from a master of words such as yourself.
Have you been using your powers of mind-reading again then?!
LW... I'm moved.
Believe it or not, I could see that happening to her...I could visualize it very clearly.
You are indeed, a wordmaster...:)
That was great. Very surreal. Can I have some more please :)
Brilliant post and use of imagery. I know that girl... we spent hours balancing our cheque books together or at least tried to.
Champurrado - And such a nice way to word your comment! =)
Anne - The feelings are real but, uh, I've never had words literally come out of my ears (or nose) so I certainly hope that part is fiction.
Banzai - Hey, I'll take that as a 'Tails Up' from the Cat!
Bean - pretty and scary - like me? lol!
Kyknoord - You know, you can't go blaming the French for everything... =)
Sappho - And you know, at 35 I've yet to balance my checkbook once. Now I'll avoid it forever! Then again, under $20 isn't hard to keep track of...
Motor - Awww, you make me blush! And most words I've mastered could make a sailor blush...lol.
Terri - If you tell me that just the other day you had an adjective on your earlobe I'm officially going to freak out.
Stacy - Thanks! Sometimes it is hard for me to separate possible story ideas from the other thoughts (that usually get me a quick appt to the psychiatrist). =)
Fence - I'm sure I've got some more up there - I hear a rattle. Glad you enjoyed it.
Heidi - Now I'll feel compelled to share these things lest I keep them in and one day they start sliding out on their own. ;)
Chitty - I tend to go overboard with detail or be rather vague; glad it made enough sense. I bet you'll rethink balancing your checkbooks next time, eh? Well, or stuff cotton in your ears!
Now don't be silly, LiVEwiRe, it was a verb, not an adjective!
I've read that about four times now and it comes across a different way each time. I like that fact a lot.
I love the way you can almost picture the light hitting the glass table through the tears and scattering little rainbows everywhere. You don't say that exactly but somehow get it down to "moist, shimmering light on the surface below". Also the fact that tears are "hot".
It's the way you draw the direct by painting the indirect.
Terri - I should have known it'd be a verb. You are so much the 'verb' type!
Carpy - The piece was meant to be somewhat open to interpretation so it appears that I succeeded in that. So, I held your interest long enough for you to read it four times? Wow - that makes me happy knowing that you felt compelled to reread it to get a full grasp. Glad you enjoyed.
Dat's coz its the eeziest gramatikal, uh, thing to spel, LOL (reverberates with laughter) :-D
Awesome writing!
Terri - I new yew'd mayk mee prowd! =) lol... nut! (reverberates... sheesh!)
Goddess - Thank you very much!
so the letters in the checkbook form sentences... but what to they say? does she receive instructions from her checkbook?
"I'm sorry officer, my checkbook made me do it."
checkbooks are scary as hell, no doubt.
Monkey - The letters coming out of her ears form all the thoughts she'd refused to share for so long. In all fairness to the checkbook, it's Alpha Bits cereal you need to watch out for. "Sorry officer, but I received a message in my cereal...". =)
Truthfully, I've never balanced my checkbook. It's a combo of frustration and boredom I think.
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