Photo Courtesy of Betty Chickenuts
We could close the curtains, pretend there's no other world outside.
A gloom has descended upon us. It's thick, raw and gregarious. It's insistent upon being heard, upon causing an upset, and upon causing a premature death of life. It's humid but the heat is gone.
Days like this make me think of yester-years. I remember sitting on our aqua green carpet that resembled the angry sea and building a small fortified city with only the cushions from our couch, some building blocks, a plethora of old blankets and a little 8-year-old-know-how.
My brother and I would often take on the task together. We'd begin as allies. The placement of each fortification was planned to the very minute detail. I was the brains and he was the muscle. Without fail, our mutual cooperation and skillful planning would turn into the beginning battles of war. We stared out as allies and would inevitably emerge as enemies. Our once singular city, turned into two dueling sibling cities. The ranting, the raving and then the punishing would follow.
Maybe it's the lack of hope that this weather seems to be providing, maybe it's the gloom that's enveloping us, or maybe it's just reality setting in, but this is the first time I've ever longed to be back on that aqua green carpet building Blanket City.
3 comments:
When growing up my carpet was red shag carpet. I always had to imagine I was being burnt alive or in hell.
So, look at the positive side; at least you had GREEN carpet.
we had wood floors growing up. we would pretend we were walking on...... wood floors -_-
there's not too many place you can go with wood floors =\
A-Even as a child you were tragic. Maybe you were meant to be a writer in a northwestern cabin amid the tall pines.
J-We used to pretend the carpet was the ocean and there were man-eating sharks in there seeking to devour us so we too would climb all over the bookshelves and other helpless objects we could get our hands on.
L-Her name is Becca Nikonchuck. A combination of foreigner and old men have given her the beloved nickname Betty Chickenuts. It's evil but hysterical. Especially when she's called Chickenuts during the Sunday Watchtower. True story.
S-You could pretend you're in the forest with wood floors. Sheesh did you kids not use your imaginaion!
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