Wednesday - The Mother
Nov. 16th, 2005 10:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreToday on the drive in to work, sitting at the stoplight, I watched the Ferris Wheel moving it's slow graceful arc against the backdrop of a clear blue autumn sky. The Carney was watching it, too, and had his back to me.
A group of children were playing by the fence, about 10 or 15 feet from the exit gate. My window was down, and I could hear them laughing.
I looked at the children carefully, to make sure that I didn't know any of them. They were laughing and happy, but the fact that they were standing by that fence meant that somewhere the lives of their parents were crumbing in around them as they tried to understand and grasp that they were gone. Somewhere, a mother was whispering the word "no" over and over into the shoulder of of someone else who held her tightly and responded with an "I'm sorry" each time she said it.
Some shoes are too painful to walk in, or to even imagine walking in. As I drove away, I said a little prayer for her, whoever she is, where ever she may be.
A group of children were playing by the fence, about 10 or 15 feet from the exit gate. My window was down, and I could hear them laughing.
I looked at the children carefully, to make sure that I didn't know any of them. They were laughing and happy, but the fact that they were standing by that fence meant that somewhere the lives of their parents were crumbing in around them as they tried to understand and grasp that they were gone. Somewhere, a mother was whispering the word "no" over and over into the shoulder of of someone else who held her tightly and responded with an "I'm sorry" each time she said it.
Some shoes are too painful to walk in, or to even imagine walking in. As I drove away, I said a little prayer for her, whoever she is, where ever she may be.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Re: Go ahead and tell me I'm dumb
Date: 2005-11-16 08:24 pm (UTC)The wheel is life. When it stops, that's death. It's all Surreal (hence the name of the journal, Surreality Bites). Actual deaths of actual people I know are sometimes recorded here (when you get a detailed account of a person exiting the ride), but some of these are just surreal ramblings and musings, like today.
Occasionally, real events from my life make it in, like me running out of gas the other week or the day I was haunted by the fire ants I killed one morning (the welts on my foot are still healing up from those little bastards). Some entries are a combination of real and surreal events, as I see fit.
Hope this helps. :)