Friday, January 20, 2012


Blades of grass tickled my nose. Just above the rise, ruby sunflowers tilted toward afternoon. Hot, loamy smells came off the rotting compost near meimei’s garden. I tried to rise, but sharp pain interfered.

“Musta been pretty drunk to sleep here.” The ground was wet under me. I didn’t remember the storm.

I pushed the button on my necklace. For a young man, I am very old.

No one came to evacuate me.

Teeth gritted, I pushed up onto my knees. All around me, the things my sister had planted writhed. I was the only one to crawl away.

No comments:

Post a Comment