Is like a fire drill.

[jacktellslies]

The places I go, I am always the only white kid on the bus. And when the buildings turn from old to historic, and the people go pale and rich, I am the only kid on the bus. This city is like that.

I went to a friend's mother's wake without knowing much about her mother at all. I wish I did know. If any of you would ever like to tell the stories of your dead, please come find me. Such things are so important. We can trade. I'll make tea or bring out the whiskey for us and for our ghosts.

The boy at the bakery offered me a loaf of raisin walnut for free! I split the difference, although perhaps I should have made it more clear that what I gave him was for him, not some safe somewhere. This did not include the food that I bring home everyday, the surplus that is traded and gifted in the accidental little village where I do my work.

We only have one pair of pliers for pulling out fish bones. It has always been broken, and now it is lost. I walked to the little hardware store that I love on tenth street. I was paid for it, and I paid with money that was not mine. It was warm outside, and it was bright, and it was the exact opposite of anything I have been paid to do for such a long time. It was wonderful. I felt free.

I woke up kissed. It changed everything.

Oh, oh! And our bakery girl has agreed to a date with both of us! I am told that she blushed. I had thought that we'd been neglecting her horribly, but she'd been away in the mountains.

Comments

[marnanel.livejournal.com]

I would like to come and tell you about how my Grandfather painted his house with pepto-bismol. Or his ideas about the weight of London. Or how he wanted to keep a lion in his garden.

[earlofgrey.livejournal.com]

Yes! Please do. I miss you. We are planning a (hopefully) big beer and porn event soon. We want to try to get some Buck Angel things. What days of the week would be best for you and Fin to come, if you were still interested in joining us?

[marnanel.livejournal.com]

[earlofgrey.livejournal.com]

Alright, I'll keep that in mind. I'm closing this Friday, but I'll let you know next time I'm working earlier.

[randiriel.livejournal.com]

I have not really known any of my family who has died. I was young enough to not remember for most.

[earlofgrey.livejournal.com]

*Nods*

[robinelaine.livejournal.com]

My paternal grandfather was the first person I knew well to die. I've been thinking about him a lot because I've been going through family photos and he wrote awesome captions on the back of a lot of them. First, they always had a date and location, which helps, and second, they had good, self-deprecating jokes. Like, in one picture that he'd used a timer on his mouth is wide open and the caption says, "I figured out how to use the timer. I'm still working on learning to stop talking while the picture is being taken." His universal greeting was "Hi ho!" His universal response to any complaining was, "Well, hard cheese." Wait, on the rare occasion someone had a valid complaint, he'd dramatically label the person at fault "De-praved." We'd fly balsa-wood model airplanes around in his yard and push remote-controlled toy boats around at the lake. He held several patents on chemicals. Also, he looked just like Buddy Holly.

[earlofgrey.livejournal.com]

That is all perfect.

[cynical-ghost.livejournal.com]

I received many things from my paternal grandfather, including blue eyes, left-handedness and the inability to wear watches of any kind for long (they break or stop and never work again.) His hobby was, predictably, repairing clocks, especially very old ones. Unfortunately I did not inherit his height. He died when I was 7 of a blood clot while recovering from lung cancer. The smell of stale cigarette smoke reminds me of him and of my father. Sometimes I smell that scent in this house, where no one has smoked for almost 10 years. Sometimes I think it's him or them, reminding me.

[earlofgrey.livejournal.com]

That is so good. Thank you.