I ask, "Where is everyone is going?"
They laugh and sing, "Come one come all, we're going to the town hall..."
Inside they are all rollerblading on the smooth clean marble floors. I do not own blades so I slide in my socks and it works just as well. I wander off through a dark side passage, down several flights of stairs and find myself at a brand new ice skating rink.
The ice is fresh and gleams like crystal under the spotlights. At this point, on the opposite side, all the kids come spilling out onto the rink in hockey gear. A school coach appears and tells everyone that the rink has been built to honor a ghost's skill and accomplishments. He hesitantly delivers a speech about not knowing anything about training a hockey team, but that if he and the kids try very hard they'll win the tournament. So the kids start training. Except me, the coach won't let me play because my skates, which are in fact wool socks, date from before the war. In fact, I am from before the war, a war I didn't survive.
So I sit still, still watching the kids practice.
I keep my silence and secrets safe.
Forgetting nothing.
Was this a dream or written with that picture as a prompt? I keep analyzing it and also thinking about my dad's ghost who seems to be very upset right now because my daughter (same one who jumped naked on the VW) is living in my childhood house. Mom is in assisted living and Dad keeps looking for her I guess. Doors are left open that were definitely shut, lights turned on. The dog seems spooked. Just as busy as your ghosts.
ReplyDeleteNeither dream nor inspired by the picture.
ReplyDeleteWhich, as usual, turned up just a few minutes after I was ready to click "publish".
Perhaps you this piece spoke to you more because of the parallel with your situation?
What does your daughter say about it?
I love this story. It makes sense why no one yells at him to put on blades because they don't see him. Is the coach honoring that particular ghost's accomplishments?
ReplyDeleteThis is great. I love your writing. When my A-Z challenge is finished I am going to explore your blog.
ReplyDeleteI can see myself visiting your blog when I am too tired to do anything else. Your stories are short and visual, perfect just before I go to sleep.
ReplyDelete@Aubrie: Maybe they don't tell him/her to put blades on because he glides so well without them?
ReplyDeleteAs for the coach, well on the one hand, it seems like too much of a coincidence that he should be talking about the ghost who just happens to be there, on the other, it seems like too much of a coincidence for him not to be talking about the ghost who just happens to be there. I'll leave the decision up to your imagination. Glad you enjoyed it.
@Niki: I've been following your A-Z challenge. It's a fun idea. You'll be done exploring this blog in no time, not much here yet, and its all short. Here's to hoping you have fun when you do. Thanks for the kind words.
@Plain Jane: Bed time cartoons! Yup that's me. Sweet dreams.
My daughter is pretty sure he's there. Sometimes I even smell the distinctive combination of his sweat and aftershave.
ReplyDeleteHmm... What is the weather like when you smell the combination of sweat and aftershave? I ask, as a skeptic, because a house where a person lived for a long time could easily contain smells that would be sharpened by abrupt changes in temperature, humidity, and air pressure.
ReplyDeleteI fear this conversation can only dead end... Like a conversation between an atheist and a religious person. I'll respectfully accept your belief but not share it.
Please excuse me if I offend.
I am intrigued by the story and the boy. Sad for his ending and the never ending. I feel the unrest. Perhaps it's just me.
ReplyDeleteHmm... Well Annie, I'd say that it's open for interpretation.
ReplyDeleteIt seems to me that he/she/it seems to be enjoying themselves, whatever else may be happening.
I figure it's a case of you taking out what you put into it.
Somebody close to me read that piece and came away asking if the child get to ride the Zamboni, in her mind the child definitely did. I like telling stories that are open to imagination... It's a Polaroid, the context is lost to the past, but just waiting to be imagined.
I love these little snapshots of life you offer. They are, as Plain Jane says, perfect for dipping into before switching the computer off for the night.
ReplyDeleteGlad you like them, but I can't guarantee I'll not dump a tangled rambling tale here one of these days... Maybe when it happens, I should preface it with: Warning! Rambling, hard to read, and sloppy story ahead! Heheh.
ReplyDeleteYou're always turning your stories around so I don't expect where they wind up. Child ghost in woolen socks. The worlds you create are surreal. Another fun read.
ReplyDeleteYay! Glad you're still having fun. You've gone through a pile of my stuff already! Pretty soon you'll be done. : j
ReplyDelete