Saturday, September 20, 2008

• Snapshots of Life (part two)

  Currently Listening The Meaning of 8 By Cloud Cult Your 8th Birthday see related

  The Days of The Yeti
  

  
      Crystal whites drip down from the sky, a cracked blue eggshell, speckled with clouds, like a robin’s. The yolk plops down, but never makes it out, perches in the blue and shines through the flurries.
      Spiraling down, the whites land on her eyelashes with cold clarity, blocking the view of the interesting older girl with the wild curly hair blowing back in the wind. Out by the woodpile, bringing in that renewable heat. A log tumbles from her grip, rolls over to the new one. The blonde little girl, cheeks bitten with ice, picks it up, and brings it back. Thanks, she smiles, You’re my neighbor. Yeah, I know. They sit, silent and shy, toes numbing in the icebox. Blonde smiles at black, straight at curly, and spark at kindling.
      Just like that. Let’s be friends.
  
  
  

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