The New Bubble Girl (banyangirl1832) wrote,
The New Bubble Girl
banyangirl1832

LJI: Week One: When you pray, move your feet.

Walking fast home into the autumn evening, hair smoky and wild. Coat zipped up against the chill, feeling my body steaming inside like a hot dog inside a foil wrapper. I pass a restaurant and catch a whiff of garlic, beef, sauce. It’s the smell of someone else’s house. People carry their houses around with them in olfactory form, like turtles carry their shells. It helps to have that sniff of a milky infant or a lover’s perfume when trouble comes; you can hide away in it. Mango candles, Old Spice and wet dog, if you’re one of my friends. In my home, there is a hallway that smells forever like a spiral baked ham, salty and sweet, although no one has even brought a ham into the house in years. And sometimes you are lucky enough to find a home in a person, and the concept of home -- safety, comfort, that “aaahh” noise you make as you’re walking through the door after a long day -- can become a living something, a moveable security blanket.

I look up, watching the sky sink lower above me. It’s a distinctly October sky: streaks of light sky intertwine with dark heavy clouds, and sunbursts break through the clouds every so often, so bright they make you think of God. Soon darkness will come and make the sky all one color, and by then, my day’s motion will have stopped. But it is still a long way home, and I unzip my coat, feeling my heart rise to meet the fall.
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  • Sticky Fingers

    I was just on the verge of coming out of sleep, just barely hearing the plinking of rain against the windows, when I heard the bedroom door open and…

  • SCI: Echo Chamber

    "In Your Dreams" It's the same as always, but it's a little different this time. You're taken by the hand and marched down a long hallway, the…

  • Kneading Instructions

    Be gentle. Let the dough slide through your hands. Let your hands be grease-marked and slippery Fish, gliding. Punch the dough down, not too…