Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Tunnels

It's 10 o'clock, Tuesday night. Hoop is asleep on the couch. The neighborhood kids are outside lighting fireworks, pretending they're cowboys in a shoot out. The rain has finally stopped. The dew on the lawn shines like a million tiny eyes. They watch me, waiting for my feet to stir, to crush them into the ground. I pivot slowly. There's a toad two feet away. I ball my fist, comparing the size. He stalks after a worm that has been loosened from its home. Nip. Nip. He flings him into the air, swallowing him whole. No more.

I creep back in. Toe, heel, toe. Hoop stirs, a shallow smile flickering across his face before he slides back into sleep. The house is quiet. Too quiet. I fold my legs into my lap. I unfold them and then tuck them in. I untuck them and then stretch them out. I selfishly trace a finger across Hoop's foot, willing him to wake. My mind runs in and out of tunnels, unearthing things like long lost tombs. My best friend in high school made mixed CDs. I listened to them in endless cycles. But it wasn't until today that I heard them. Truly heard them.

They spoke of love, a love that wasn't. "If I push you, you might break, loving me for friendship's sake." He spoke so little. When he left, silence was my only reminder. The tunnel turns and there I am, slipping through my open window. I trace the road away from lights, to a tree next to a dock. In the moonlight we bury a stone, smokey and pale beneath the dirt. It looks like an egg. I daydream about what it might hatch, drawing doodles across my homework of leafy birds with gigantic beaks.

The tunnel drops and cools, sinking below the wealth of hidden jewels. I'm brought back to the last supper of my Father, a Godless meal. We yelled while it crackled in the pan. When we were through, my Father tossed it into a bowl. An uneaten feast. No matter how much I wanted it, I couldn't stomach a single bite. My mind wouldn't stop whispering, "It's poisoned." Suddenly, it's too dark. The tunnel is too deep. I surface, seeking the light. Hoop's snores, soft and raspy, signal me home. I curl into his warmth, a bed of flesh, and wonder why I ever left.

P.S.
Twisted (Tink) has been updated with two newly revised chapters, "The Name Game" and "A Hairy Tale." Fly on over for more of my twisted tale. As always, comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated.

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34 Comments:

At 04 July, 2007, Anonymous Michelle said...

Oooo...good imagery.

And Happy Independence Day. :o)

 
At 04 July, 2007, Blogger Chelle Y. said...

Isn't it great to have someone to love and make us feel safe?

 
At 04 July, 2007, Blogger Jay said...

That was awesome. You brought the whole thing to life.

Happy 4th!!

 
At 04 July, 2007, Blogger Spamboy said...

Your post is a funny juxtaposition -- it sounded dreamy and Hoop was asleep. Maybe he was dreaming your words as you wrote?

 
At 04 July, 2007, Blogger Lynn@ZelleBlog said...

I always feel really guilty when I try to wake up my hubby accidentally. I see I'm not the only one who has done that! I mean, I don't like punch him in the face or anything. But sometimes at night I get really needy. And I miss him. Even if I saw him all day.

 
At 04 July, 2007, Anonymous gawilli said...

Tunnels - a very nice way to think of that self talk we all have. I think I will file that one away.

 
At 04 July, 2007, Blogger meno said...

That was dreamy. I could feel the cool dew on my bare feet.

If you wanted to wake Hoop up, i suggest you slug him in the arm!

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger butterfly girl said...

I think that feeling when you melt into his arms is a sure sign that he is the one. Forever.
I feel like that with my hubby. It's the safest place in the world and no memory can rob me of it.

What a wonderful way to describe it!

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger Jay said...

Oooh, very nice.

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger Cindi said...

I love the way you write! I'm amazed. :-)

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger Chris said...

So vivid...

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger mamatulip said...

Excellent post, Tink.

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger mjd said...

As usual, beautifully written post, Tink.

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger Mamalujo said...

I know how selfish this is, but I'd like to hear more about your father. More about your relationship, and lack of one, with him.
This was very well written.

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger furiousBall said...

That was great. It was like a more focused stream of consciousness. Like the nozzle on your brain was set to stream instead of spray.

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger sassybead said...

Beautiful...just eerily beautiful.

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger Maggie said...

Otherworldly writing here. Lovely and distant. Many layers of meaning. I feel as though there is a vast lake of information hidden under the surface of this post. Wonderful Tink.

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger captain corky said...

Beautiful post Tink!

 
At 05 July, 2007, Anonymous Snookie said...

One word: DAMN!

This post put me in a completely different mood when I read it yesterday, and that mood lasted all day. I absolutely love your writing. It's the kind of writing that takes you to another world.

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger captain corky said...

May the Spork be with you...

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger Newt said...

You are a wonderful writer........

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger Lefty said...

Now THAT was twisted tink.

I voted for this new banner, but I think I want to go back to the old one.

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger Chris said...

I love the new look!

 
At 05 July, 2007, Blogger fiwa said...

Tink, that was a haunting post. Beautiful.

And I like the new look - the white sporks against the black background look great!

 
At 06 July, 2007, Blogger butterfly girl said...

I do like the new,
but I really liked the moo.

 
At 06 July, 2007, Blogger Maggie said...

I'm positive when I visited this post last you were still on the previous Tink look, so I'm chiming back in to say: Love the Digs Chicky!

 
At 06 July, 2007, Blogger Scottsdale Girl said...

I likey the new format! And loved the post. :)

 
At 06 July, 2007, Blogger Freakazojd said...

My god, what an achingly beautiful post! Thank you.

 
At 06 July, 2007, Blogger Mamalujo said...

You've never missed two days when you didn't let us know, at least not that I recall. Where are you, how are you, and you have to expect this sort of inquiry after this post of exquisite beauty.

I need to hear from you, and know that you are there. Email my work.

 
At 06 July, 2007, Blogger Gracey said...

You should write a children's book; I think you would do a great job with your imagination and great writing style. Hey, I'm not even a kid and I'd read your books! :)

 
At 07 July, 2007, Blogger amusing said...

Lovely. It's a poem. A song. A gossamer memory with iron edges. Thanks for sharing.

 
At 08 July, 2007, Blogger Foo said...

I thought your comment about a friend's mix CDs was particularly interesting. I used to make mix tapes like that, trying to tell a story about where I was at a particular time in my life, but I quit it because no one ever noticed what I was doing.

When Turtle and I were planning our wedding, I put together a mix CD of songs that traced the timeline from "Before us, so sad" to "Lordy, we're old and wrinkly--but still in love". She found copy of it a couple months ago and, after listening to it, commented on how some of the songs didn'r really seem to fit. At least, not until after I'd explained that it was a love story.

It was fun seeing the light come on.

 
At 08 July, 2007, Anonymous TB said...

I like this. It reminds me of how I feel for middle of the night feedings when I'm half asleep and everything seems off kilter.

 
At 09 July, 2007, Blogger coffespaz said...

That was an amazing story...you are a terrific writer. Glad you had a good 4th!

 

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