People, some of whom were on the bus yesterday

[squirmelia]

She closes her eyes more than most people and even her blinking is somehow more deep. She's scared that in the final moments all she'll see is soil, as if she were a daffodil bulb, but she won't be able to smell it. She underestimates the impact that her sister's sunglasses will have on her life. She cannot remember the last time she used a postbox and hopes they still work in the same way they used to. Her mood fluctuates between being vacant and being self-assured. She's unconcerned about what will happen and doesn't even know where to get off the bus. She tries to untangle her hair with her fingers and regrets wearing it in a ponytail. She wonders if there are flies in her gum from when she last opened her mouth. She thinks that everyone looks at her legs as if they were the only legs they'd ever seen and wonders if she has pigeon ankles. She thinks that the bad bleach job might detract from the expression on her face which gives away that she might be unhappy. She doesn't expect the child in front of her to stop moving, abruptly.

Comments

Spoken thought...

[velnn.livejournal.com]

I love your entries.

Re: Spoken thought...

[squirmelia.livejournal.com]

Thanks. Some of yours are rather cool, I find.

Darrellica

[(Anonymous)]

Random thoughts of moment, spun out like industrious spider webs, or growing pond ripples, concentration on one abstract part of the day while the rest of it goes by barely noticed. Feeling lost when one returns to the normal stream of events and you forget where you are. Imagination, feeling and dreaming taking you off the road, the grey, perfectly constructed road, keeping your feet floating firmly above the grass and weeds of the ancient, eternal wayside.

In a delightful way, you are completely mad. There should be more peoplw who think like you.