The sun struck sweat thick on my neck. Desert noonday and I’m out here burning leaves. But I got a hair up my ass to do it. So I did. A few months till moving and brush needed to be cleared. Took me a few times to strike the fire machine and work, but it came. Wind moves softly, delicately, like hands outstretched twirling in long skirts. Kicks up ash like snowflakes, sends smoke in my eyes, in my throat.
I turn to the porch to sit. I suddenly have the urge to smoke a cigarette, even though it’s been years. I turn the lighter over in my hand. I imagine the nicotine calm. But I’ve got none. I dig my hands deep into my pockets, letting them rest. I have to keep checking for blisters. Got to go easy on my hands. Dirt is ok though. Earth. But not mud. The rain doesn’t come here.
To be continued...
Nice contrasts - fire/wind, ash snowflakes/hair up the ass...you get the idea. (I'm so rusty at this.)
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...Rachel Maddow met her wife (partner? I don't know what words they use), Susan, when she hired Rachel to do yard work for her. So yes. That's what I started thinking about almost immediately.
More! Though. More would be good. (Brian and I are on a Grey's Anatomy marathon. This show is ridiculous.)
Thanks! I plan on writing more to this...theres a lot I wanted to do with this concept, I wrote pages upon pages in my notebook and I just felt constipated, like I wasn't going anywhere. I feel like I'm finally getting somewhere here, and that I just need to keep going.
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