A motley of Yule paper promises lay rent in revelation, a fraction of their former wrapped dignity preserved by the stubbornness of iridescent bows that remained dutifully attached. My family lounged content as cats, their desires full from their holiday haul (a fullness their bellies were soon to replicate), while the aesthete in me cringed at the plight of the mutilated wrapping papers, torn to shreds as if by a school of piranhas. As I lamented the long hours spent in the perfection of pretty presentation, I wondered, “Is it worth it?”
Posts tagged "triumph" — Page 5
A Tale of Two Sweatshirts
A TINY HORROR STORY:
MONDAY.
I saw that sardonic sentiment emblazoned in white upon a pepper black sweatshirt and I wanted it. I wanted it, the real me whose face is not sutured with a counterfeit smile, the real me who is not an innocuous gnat, the real me whose veins course as thrill-filled tributaries to a heart that delights in this tiny rebellion. And so I bought it. And I wore it. And people noticed.
Another Campfire
I read the news now. Every day.
There was a period when I covered my eyes with my hands, as a child hoping that the fright will vanish if she does not look. I put on the blindfold after Peter got sick and died. Peter told us that he had been diagnosed with lung cancer as if confessing to a crime. He said that he had been weak during his constant coverage of the September 11 attacks and had succumbed to smoking again. I wanted to say, “Peter, you are not weak. There is no shame in being sick. You are magnificent.”