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April 17, 2003
Music Inspired Musings
More writing.
I really need to find a hobby. This piece a little bit based on reality, but mostly based on the fact that I was listening to some weird music while I was writing. Dont blame me. Blame Gershwin, or Janis Joplin.
I dont think its finished, but I thought I'd post it anyhow.
Keeping really busy at work... SUPER busy, in fact. Having a great deal of fun doing it though, which is the most important point.
Hope you all have a brilliant easter, too. I'm off to Peterborough on the weekend, to spend some down-time away from the House of Hell. Discovered that Mr Not-A-Rocket-Scientist had dried up all the dishes that I had washed, but put away everything except the two dishes of mine. Never mind the fact that I was kind enough to wash his breakfast bowl in the first place.
See if I ever wash anything of his ever again.
Sick of complaining.
New personal resolution: Whinge about other things for a change.
Jac.
Her fingers made a familiar tap-tappity against the keys, as letters and words poured from her mind and onto the screen. She wasn’t totally sure of where anything was headed; her words, her story, her life. It felt like she was reading an article about some other person, struggling to find their place in the world. It didn’t feel like it was real, somehow still all make-believe.
Was this it? Was this being ‘grown up’? Was this what it was all about?
And her fingers suddenly stopped. Here frown was worn not on her mouth but in her eyes. A curious blend of child and adult, without the weight of time and without the innocence of youth. She glanced about the room, still frowning at nothing. Perfume and papers now had their place amongst the dolls and stuffed toys. One mankey bear peered out of button eyes, faded and torn with a lopsided smile. He looked out of place sitting amongst the tax forms and bank receipts. He was carrying on the fight against time, never willing to let go of the girl he once knew so well.
When had that all changed? When had she stopped needing him in her arms at night, to protect her from the nightmares that lived in the wardrobe? When had that happened?
Her eyes rested on him a moment longer, before lingering on a dusty frame, filled with smiling faces of the past. Three carefree kids with long arms and big smiles. Waves stopped thrashing the beach, caught in that split second of happiness. Sunlight poured from the image bringing with it memories from a different time and a different place. She longed to speak to the others in the frame, wondered where they were now. The same faded cotton shirt still hung in her cupboard.
An angular stereo pumped in music, downloaded with new technology, listened to with the same sense of enjoyment. The sounds played over her thoughts, each new song bringing back other faded memories. The notes and melodies captured some personal fragment, held a small memory. One song swept her back to childhood, another back merely a week. Remembering how a friend laughed at her jokes and recalling how her first hangover felt, like a bassbeat in her head. A knot formed in her chest, as she recalled the way arms had held her against the tears that had fallen in the past. Remembering what it had felt like to dance on the beach, when nobody else was watching. Her fingers tapped the beat upon the keys. She continued typing.
Was this it? Was she an adult now?
She shook her head, unable to decide, not really caring anyway. Her fingers made a familiar sound as they bounced off the keys, her words and thoughts poured onto the screen.
Posted by Jacqui at April 17, 2003 03:52 PM
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