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mute_claychallenge response
I don’t know. Maybe –
I can still remember the first carving I ever did. I can’t have been more than a handful of years, seven at the most, and I had worked at it for days. It was not the first thing I had ever carved, mind, just the first proper one.
It was a mouse. A tiny little mouse. Fit in the palm of my hand as if it belonged there. I would go sit in the spot I liked, away from the house but close enough that I could hear it if Ma called for me to come home. I’d hurry up, gathering kindling, so I’d have time. Time that wasn’t for work or sleep or prayer. Time that was for me.
And I made a mouse.
I knew I couldn’t take it with me. The good book says you shouldn’t make things that look like things and Ma was very strict with that. Besides, it was just a wooden mouse. It wasn’t useful. It couldn’t do anything. Not even feed the barn cat.
I put it down next to the log I’d been sitting on and told it to be a good mouse. Even if it wasn’t a proper mouse. It couldn’t squeak for one.
When I got back there, a while later, it was gone. Maybe the Forest took it. I don’t know. For a while I thought that maybe – it’d become alive and run off, like a real mouse would. Squeaking. But that don’t happen. Not when it couldn’t to begin with.
I was proud of the house too. The things I didn’t know how to do I figured out and when it was storming outside and you sat indoors you knew it was a good house.
I was proud whenever I made Callie smile. Especially the first time. She was so pretty. And I felt proud every time I looked at her. Because she lived with me. And I could make her smile.
But see – there’s the catch. There’s always one in these questions. Maybe they think I don’t catch on to them, because I never went to school. But I do.
They say it has to be one moment. And that isn’t right with these, cause there isn’t one moment when a carving just is. You make it and all the while you work with the wood is part of that carving in the end.
And the storm isn’t any particular storm. It’s more the idea of one. Like when you remember bad winters and they’re all bad winters you’ve ever seen and then some. In your head.
And even if I say I remember the first time I made Callie smile – you can’t just go and make years with someone into a moment.
So I think I have to say that I don’t know.
I don’t know. Maybe –
I can still remember the first carving I ever did. I can’t have been more than a handful of years, seven at the most, and I had worked at it for days. It was not the first thing I had ever carved, mind, just the first proper one.
It was a mouse. A tiny little mouse. Fit in the palm of my hand as if it belonged there. I would go sit in the spot I liked, away from the house but close enough that I could hear it if Ma called for me to come home. I’d hurry up, gathering kindling, so I’d have time. Time that wasn’t for work or sleep or prayer. Time that was for me.
And I made a mouse.
I knew I couldn’t take it with me. The good book says you shouldn’t make things that look like things and Ma was very strict with that. Besides, it was just a wooden mouse. It wasn’t useful. It couldn’t do anything. Not even feed the barn cat.
I put it down next to the log I’d been sitting on and told it to be a good mouse. Even if it wasn’t a proper mouse. It couldn’t squeak for one.
When I got back there, a while later, it was gone. Maybe the Forest took it. I don’t know. For a while I thought that maybe – it’d become alive and run off, like a real mouse would. Squeaking. But that don’t happen. Not when it couldn’t to begin with.
I was proud of the house too. The things I didn’t know how to do I figured out and when it was storming outside and you sat indoors you knew it was a good house.
I was proud whenever I made Callie smile. Especially the first time. She was so pretty. And I felt proud every time I looked at her. Because she lived with me. And I could make her smile.
But see – there’s the catch. There’s always one in these questions. Maybe they think I don’t catch on to them, because I never went to school. But I do.
They say it has to be one moment. And that isn’t right with these, cause there isn’t one moment when a carving just is. You make it and all the while you work with the wood is part of that carving in the end.
And the storm isn’t any particular storm. It’s more the idea of one. Like when you remember bad winters and they’re all bad winters you’ve ever seen and then some. In your head.
And even if I say I remember the first time I made Callie smile – you can’t just go and make years with someone into a moment.
So I think I have to say that I don’t know.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 08:32 pm (UTC)*kisses him again*
The aliens came. I didn't see them, or better I don't remember them. And they made me pregnant, Clay. I've got babies inside, that's why I'm heavier! *her eyes are full of joy as she tells him*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 08:45 pm (UTC)That's what you wanted. That's good, Callie
*doesn't like the sound of it - but she is happy*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 08:50 pm (UTC)They don't talk yet. But I can feel they are in there, like..in the back of mind, a murmur that I don't understand yet. Everyone is worried they will be little monsters, but I don't care. I'll love them even if they're ugly, and teach them to be good.
*kisses his chin* Also...I have a name. There's a file, with my name in it. Callie Michelle Carter. But doesn't feel like me, you know? I'm just Callie. Say it for me?
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 09:03 pm (UTC)No. That doesn't sound like you. You're Callie. Callie who came in from the dark. Callie, who dances in the rain.
*kissing her softly. Again. And again*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 09:07 pm (UTC)*offers him her face to have more kisses, closing her eyes happily*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 09:18 pm (UTC)*keeps kissing her, holding her tight*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 09:23 pm (UTC)*she smiles softly at him* Please?
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-31 05:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-01 12:24 am (UTC)