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Showing posts from August, 2012

Retro Post :: Ivory Slipper Satin

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She sits on an armless desk chair padded with five or six thin blankets. It rolls, hence she rolls in small semi-circles in the small corner of what was once a kitchen and is now the anchor of the house, a room that holds the necessities, that leads everywhere. Fitting, as she's the core. Without her, he wouldn't make it, he's so skinny these days--although lately I've noticed that without him, she might not make it either. And she might not be quite as happy as we've all always believed she would be. My grandmother's face is transformed when she starts to speak, to tell me about her childhood. The subject sort of bloomed from how are you today to why does he insist on watching crime television shows over and over is something I will never understand to please take these tomatoes home and enjoy them to let me tell you about my mother and Chelsea. And I couldn't be more delighted--neither could she, but then she's always excelled at looking delighted