12.02.2008
an empty cathedral.
That night, every phrase that fell from her mouth dripped with rich, languid tones. Words swayed back and forth in her mind.... teasing one another before taking shape. She chose each word carefully...delicately, as if it would shatter into dust if she were careless in the way that she handled it. Just one word could damage the path of an entire future. Her eyes met mine. the hesitation behind them was palpable and bittersweet. My heart ached in silence for her...as my chest became an empty cathedral full of mixed emotions and echoing throbs. Then it hit me... everyday we wake up with a choice. A choice to grab what is ours and to hold onto it tightly. I pushed out my chair and walked away with a crooked grin. Her arms were full, and so were mine.
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4 comments:
i am intrigued by the crooked grin; it changes the overall tone...therefore, it intrigues me. but yes, the gravity of even one word is astounding.
crooked grin: the realization that her arms were full...not holding someone else, but holding onto herself tightly. holding onto her heart. taking care of herself. the other person could not help but grin crookedly when they understood that this was a good thing what they were both doing...even though it made their chest ache for a moment.
i suppose i was aligning "crooked" with a jaded connotation...as deceitful or clever trickery.
like a crooked cop. but it was more like a "Gilbert Blythe" kind of crooked smile when he looked at Anne and kind of shook his head and smiled at something new she had gotten herself into and discovered about herself.
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