Thursday, January 15

A Thing I Liked

It was a glamorous spring day. The gold star in Mrs. Allen's window gleamed in the light. The apple trees in the Hancock's yard had burst into bloom. Elsie Carter came riding down the boulevard carrying her sack of Saturday Evening Posts. One of my molars was about to fall out. I could taste the wonderful thin, salty taste of blood. I was eight years old. In five years darker blood would pour out from between my legs and all things would be changed. For now, I was pure energy, clear light, morally neutral, soft and violent and almost perfect. I had two good eyes and two good ears and two arms and two legs. If bugs got inside me, my blood boiled and ate them up. If I cut myself, my blood rushed in and sewed me back together. If a tooth fell out, another one came in. The sunlight fell between the branches of the trees. It was Saturday. I had nothing to do and nowhere to go and I didn't have to do a thing I didn't want to do and it would be a long time before things darkened and turned to night.
Selection from "The Tree Fort" collected in Light Can Be Both Wave and Particle by Ellen Gilchrist

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