I rememberA Chapter by Split VoicesA remembrance of times passed
I remember the cornfield near my house. I would
walk through it with my sister during the summers, when we were both
out of school. I remember the hundreds of rows of corn, all green and
verdant and waiting to come to life. I remember how my sister would walk
in front of me, because she was older. That was her excuse. She would
walk proudly in front of me for a while, making exaggerated movements.
Almost like she was a soldier. She would do that until we got to the
middle of the cornfield. And then she stopped her high and mighty act
and looked back at me occasionally to make sure that I was keeping up
with her. She was strong, I remember. I wasn’t around when my parents
were at their worst. But she was. And she was alone. And that’s where
she grew from. I remember. I remember that there was only one time when I
walked through the cornfield without my sister. And that was after the
tornado. I remembered then, walking along the worn dirt path where she
would step. Where she would jump over a puddle. Where she would pick up a
suitable walking stick. I remembered the jokes that she would make. The
stories of school and the gossip that she had been storing up all year.
I remember imagining what she would talk about then. She would talk
about her daughter. She would joke about how she didn’t need no man and
how she was happier alone. And she would do that for the first half of
the walk. She would be a soldier again and put on her strong mask and
act as though she was in control of the world. But I remember, that as
we passed by this lone bush of flowers in the middle of the path, she
would change. She would feel alone. She would feel like she couldn’t
make a difference in the world. And I remember hating myself for
thinking that she might have been right.
© 2013 Split Voices |
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Added on August 29, 2013 Last Updated on August 29, 2013 Lunes
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By Split VoicesAuthorSplit VoicesSeattle, WAAboutI'll be honest with you (as oppose to the times I've been false with you), I am young, I write purely for fun and on the side, and yet it serves as an escape for me. That is what my writing is all abo.. more..Writing
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