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beck | ford

A summer evening, still light outside. It was chaos there in the shopping center, but not the telegenic chaos of fires and overturned cars. People were milling about the parking lot; there was no frenzy in anyone's movements. Tom (or Akin?) broke into a restaurant and cooked himself dinner. No one seemed worried about alarms (I hadn't heard any) or the arrival of police. I thought about using that liberated kitchen to cook myself something later, but saw Chuck in the distance, playing outside some store or eatery. Join him? Was that really Chuck? Linus (no, not Him) walked over to us from where Chuck was playing; he brought us food in styrofoam take-out containers, and thoughtfully brought me veggies only.

After eating, I went in search of magazines.

- / +

  • an old bendy carrot

  • a girl in white shorts

  • standing in a Hardees which was also an auto repair place and which sold things like towels and frisbees because the park was next door. I was afraid to look at anyone. Standing in line I wondered how they'd gotten the license to sell all this crap in the same place. The moo goo gai pan was stacked in a four-foot heap. I stole from the donation jar on the counter.
  • When the Gods Speak

    I was wearing my cool black lace dress with no chonies on and could feel the breeze on my thighs. I was in a dark wood, the full moon was out, the forest was inky though from all the overhead growth blocking the sheen of the moon. There wasn't much undergrowth, just loamy soil, the occasional shrub or small tree, and the normal fallen rotting logs. I could see a glow up ahead, and I could feel my totem whuffing through the trees over me. This told me I was on business. I'm walking towards what looks like a bonfire up ahead. The dress not catching on branches or bark, which was strange, it seemed the forest was making way for me. I was barefoot, feeling the pine needles and soil underfoot, the occasional beetle skittering from my naked toes. Time slowed, I walked for seeming hours in this peaceful, alive place. Absorbing the stillness of growth there.

    The bonfire grew nearer, and I saw Grandmother, standing, watching me approach. I got close to her and we embraced. Not hugged. Being held by her, the rush of emotion in my heart, to KNOW that she cared that much for me. She would hold me like that, and run her hands down my hair, then backed off and hold my cheeks while looking into my eyes. I get teary thinking about it.

    She took my hand, and it was amazing, I think I could feel the very brownness of her skin, the wrinkles in her flesh. Each standing out on my nerve ends strongly. We sat by the fire, and she talked to me, as a therapist, as a healer. I wept, bawled, howled, snotted. It felt marvelous. I was a sword passed through fire. Re-forged. All the pain is still there, but it's not a pustulent wound anymore. or I don't think it is...teary again

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