Send us a blindfold, send us a blade
Tell the survivors help is on the way
I was a blind fool, never complained
All the survivors singing in the rain
I was the one with the world at my feet
Got us a battle, leave it up to me
The day is dim, dark and heavy with the promise of rain. I was outside for a little while doing a little gardening, planting nasturtiums for endless salads this summer, marveling at the lilac tree we planted that has grown out over the wooden retaining wall and is now far taller than even Ben. The soft grey of the wooden wall is the perfect compliment to the palest violet color of the blooms. I planted some lavender and some parsley, and some sweet peas. Maybe this weekend if it's not raining we'll plant the tomatoes, peas and peppers too. People would say I'm very late in planting but it doesn't get cold here in the fall until after Remembrance day and I like to plant from seed so I wait until the ground is warm and dry, rather than in years past when my kitchen was covered on all surfaces with seedlings. I don't want to pre-grow things, I don't want to cheat. I'm not chasing the warm weather here in the way it's done everywhere else.
I can take my time.
I look up as the sun pushes the clouds back for an instant. The sea is content today, her waves blunted and smooth, no whitecaps, no foam, no roil underneath the invisible wind. I don't want to be out in the bright sun so I gather up my tools into the big red bucket that I use for gardening and I head toward the house. Just before I top the hill I look back at the rope swing drifting lazily back and forth against the green of the orchard. I dreamed last night that I could swing high enough to touch the clouds but when I tried in my awake hours I had to settle for only reaching palest blue.
The swing slows to a stop and only then do I turn and make my way home, stopping by the stables to drop off my bucket of gardening supplies and then I spent a minute with the hose and stiff brush in the driveway to wash the soil and the dust off my bare feet before heading inside.
Lochlan meets me at the door.
Who were you talking to?
I was in the garden.
Yeah, I came out to see if you wanted some help and you were talking up a storm. At least you didn't wait for replies or I'd be even more worried than I already am.
It's nothing.
Is that where you put him?
What?
Is that where Jake lives now in your mind? Is that why you spend so much time out at the swing? Is that the shadow I'm going to have to rip off your heels for the rest of our lives?
Loch-
I was kind of hoping he was taking a little break from your life, that you were focused and paying attention-
I am-
You are a dreamer, a magic fairy. A mythical beast. A nightmare. And you're never going to be mine, are you?
I can take my time.
I look up as the sun pushes the clouds back for an instant. The sea is content today, her waves blunted and smooth, no whitecaps, no foam, no roil underneath the invisible wind. I don't want to be out in the bright sun so I gather up my tools into the big red bucket that I use for gardening and I head toward the house. Just before I top the hill I look back at the rope swing drifting lazily back and forth against the green of the orchard. I dreamed last night that I could swing high enough to touch the clouds but when I tried in my awake hours I had to settle for only reaching palest blue.
The swing slows to a stop and only then do I turn and make my way home, stopping by the stables to drop off my bucket of gardening supplies and then I spent a minute with the hose and stiff brush in the driveway to wash the soil and the dust off my bare feet before heading inside.
Lochlan meets me at the door.
Who were you talking to?
I was in the garden.
Yeah, I came out to see if you wanted some help and you were talking up a storm. At least you didn't wait for replies or I'd be even more worried than I already am.
It's nothing.
Is that where you put him?
What?
Is that where Jake lives now in your mind? Is that why you spend so much time out at the swing? Is that the shadow I'm going to have to rip off your heels for the rest of our lives?
Loch-
I was kind of hoping he was taking a little break from your life, that you were focused and paying attention-
I am-
You are a dreamer, a magic fairy. A mythical beast. A nightmare. And you're never going to be mine, are you?