Wednesday, August 23, 2006
New Beginning 87
After I read the article, I carefully folded the paper and set it on the table next to my breakfast. The granola suddenly tasted like shredded cardboard and I pushed the bowl away, no longer hungry. But since my mouth was full I chewed and swallowed. It went down like a lump of rock. I eyed the scar on my wrist, a thin tracing of white in the smooth tan an inch or two above the bone. Nothing much, really; but if you looked at it right, it almost looked like a flowing vine, looped on itself to form a bracelet. If I squinted just right, I could watch it move.
"Are you alright, honey?" Gram asked when she turned to place a glass of orange juice on the table for me.
"Fine. I was just thinking," I told her, and met her eyes all unblinking, deliberately not looking at the paper or my hand. I sipped the orange juice. It was pulpy and tart. "Yum. Fresh squeezed." I hoped I just sounded sarcastic and not like I wanted to gag. "Gram, why don't you come outside for a little walk with me?" I asked. The newspaper article on spring gardening had given me an idea.
"If you've had enough, honey," she replied.
Oh, I'd had enough all right. There was a shiny new shovel in the toolshed. And the garden needed fertilizer.
Opening: Writtenwyrdd.....Continuation: J.E. Barnard