Tuesday

A foot of heavy, wet snow, overnight– then a deep freeze on the following day. Everything’s suffocated out there. Nothing can budge. Queer bits of memory haunting me tonight– real memories, this time. Strange ones. Between-the-lines ones. Like the types of things that fit between the moments of note, that should be memories. Not these, though. The painty scent of moving from school hallway to art room; an odd orange wall. Someone with brown hair swishing their legs back and forth in her seat…I can’t see her face. A cough interrupting a quiet room. Then it’s all speed and darkness. A car, I’m driving. Laughing faces in the passenger seat. My lights own the road, and have enough to spare a glimpse of who’s with me. I can see their faces, but that’s not enough…their presence, how tangible it feels through the memory canal. Strange. So strange. All buried, suffocated, and unmoving. So much life. Too much, really.