She glared at her graduation photos. Those fake smiles stabbed her heart.
"Their daughter's a pharmacist. What can you expect of them? What is your daughter? Your daughter's only a teacher."
These words hurt her.
"Anyone knows that you don't peel off its paper first. Even I know without reading a recipe...," although said, each words seemed to carve into her. "Does everyone really know?" her heart insulted and doubted hurtfully. Her discontent pulled off from her face.
Just as expected, her freedom of expression enraged the other. "If you're so unhappy, GO! I don't need your help!" She was dismissed with a slam on the table.
She was indeed unhappy and hurt.
"Am I, abnormal?" she wondered, "... or just too normal?" She was disturbed.
Hi,
ReplyDeleteI discovered your blog in June of 09, and I was so moved by your evocative writing, that I left a comment. I was saddened that you stopped posting shortly after that, but tonight (perhaps as a New Years portent?) I found your voice has resumed.
You have a gift for encapsulating tiny moments, peopled by unknown actors who move through mysterious locales. Each small series of paragraphs seem excerpted from a series of wonderful stories that I wish I had read (or even been aware of).
Do you also write longer pieces or are you anchored more in fleeting and evocative images?
Best of luck in the New Year! Bob