memories

Ghostly faces cloud my reality in this moment of despair.. Eyes that squinted with insincere laughter, noses flared with what was not mirth, but instead sniffed out my insecurities … and the mouths–the cruelest of all–stretched into smiles of toothy hunger, ready to devour me should I flinch.

These memories have haunted me throughout my life, through childhood and my teenage years, and well into my twenties. And now, as I face the obstacle of my worst nightmare–standing upon the stage before my peers to receive the degree I earned alone in my basement, staring at a screen of solitary learning–I regret that my qualification may go unrewarded.

The life of an introverted scholar seems inconceivable.

This quick jot is part of Just Jot it January! The prompt today is brought to you by Cage Dunn – click here to check out her blog: https://cagedunn.wordpress.com/ and go here to join in JusJoJan! https://lindaghill.com/2018/01/05/jusjojan-daily-prompt-january-5th-2018/ It’s fun! 😀

I always think of you, when I stand among the daffodils. The way their heavy heads bob on the breeze reminds me of when you agreed with me that one time. Do you remember?

I think we were driving to Niagara Falls. It was the first really warm day and the humidity was rising out of the ground from the rainfall we’d had earlier that morning. I remember that little detail, because, as I got into the car I stepped in a puddle and soaked my left sock… or was it the right one? No matter.

Anyway, we were on the QEW, approaching Burlington and the sun was coming up. It shone in the rearview mirror and just about blinded me and I said, “It looks like it’s going to be a nice day.”

That was when you nodded, and I thought of the daffodils.

And then we hit the patch of oil on the bridge. It was a long drop.

I miss you, mostly because it ended so perfectly.