This time, the chill of autumn was in the air.
In my mind the scent of Connecticut permeated everything. It’s a place I think of when the temperature cools to a crisp. I smell apples and dried branches. We had a bit of land then. It was full of trees.
a
The leaves quivered and turned golden as we gazed upward, into the afternoon sun. We were raking dead foliage with my father…making little piles on the lawn. Whirlwinds of dried leaves spiraled and scratched against the pavement. I jumped into these dervishes. Like magic, they always disappeared.
a
The neighbors thought I was retarded.
a
A canopy of trees bent over Old King’s Highway South. Shafts of sunlight lasered down through the branches.
a
It was on this road I decided to run away.
a
My little sister ran after me as I paced down the road darkened by twilight. “Don’t go’ she said running behind in her pajamas.
a
I always returned. Not for them, for her.
a
You think things change with time…but they don’t.
I still want to run away. And, to this day, if someone hurt my kid sister, I would kill them.
a
Thank God she grew up to become an attorney.
az
She can bail me out of jail.
a
Whew.
5 comments:
Westport is still here.
you smelled crisp fall and apples riding your bike on the BEACH?? you are not retarded, I think you might have a brain tumor (tee hee - kidding)
Found you through Braja...
and you are Sofa King Wee Todd Did
but I like that...so I followed you
Peace - Rene
C-from a dozer in camos to a schwinn in white? Why would anyone think you touched? Keep the mood and rub a little on my back. it's a good place you're in. Really enjoyed this post, as always. ~rick
Hmmm ... it occurs to me that I could not get away with murdering anyone for one of my siblings, as none of them are attorneys. That's sort of sad. I could probably get away with stun-gunning someone though, so that's a thought.
Lovely story.
Post a Comment