Blue
i
In the morning, there is a crowd of mourners standing on our doorstep.
The world around me spins in slow motion, from one teary-eyed relative to the next and family friends that we haven’t seen in years with cracking voices that say, oh, you look so much like her. They speak of them rarely and only in third person—him and her and they. When they do, their voices are distant, pleading, as though they think that by saying their names the two will come back to haunt them. My brother and I stand side by side with big eyes and hands that hang by our sides because we don’t know what else to do with them. Beneath the black too-small clothes that Gram ironed for me, my skin feels as though it is going to ignite. My heart aches and my throat is sore from trying to make sense of things. People move around me as though I am a ghost, hands brushing my shoulders and eyes trying to find mine. I can’t look at them.
Dad stands in the corner of the room and stares at his hands.
The hours move like millennia.
The world around me spins in slow motion, from one teary-eyed relative to the next and family friends that we haven’t seen in years with cracking voices that say, oh, you look so much like her. They speak of them rarely and only in third person—him and her and they. When they do, their voices are distant, pleading, as though they think that by saying their names the two will come back to haunt them. My brother and I stand side by side with big eyes and hands that hang by our sides because we don’t know what else to do with them. Beneath the black too-small clothes that Gram ironed for me, my skin feels as though it is going to ignite. My heart aches and my throat is sore from trying to make sense of things. People move around me as though I am a ghost, hands brushing my shoulders and eyes trying to find mine. I can’t look at them.
Dad stands in the corner of the room and stares at his hands.
The hours move like millennia.
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thanks for reading!comments/criticisms would be appreciated.