Standing : In the middle of some cheap ass, junk filled store. It´s off white walls tinted yellow with the humidity and the grime, mosquitoes clumped in every corner, fake holly and ribbons taped to the walls as if someone had once heard of Christmas, but never actually seen the decorations.
Sweating: 90 degrees and 90 percent humidity, everyone sweating and scratching their mosquito bites. Talking about the heat, talking about the mosquitoes. Thinking about the heat, thinking about the mosquitoes.
Staring: At my ripped open backpack, my journal spilling out one pocket, receipts and pens out another. Of course missing the one thing I´ve been able to hide from the thieves this long... my wallet.
They are just things Lizzie. Just things. Just things stashed in little wallet pockets. Just the gem you picked off the ground of the mine for Jamie, your credit cards, the ring for your mom, your Oregon Student ID and Jason Bernert´s business card. Just things. Just things.
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oh, Lizzie. I am feeling your sadness and bummerness. just things...just things. That thought will get you through. Your mom and Jamie will be glad to have YOU home much more than the things you would bring them.
ReplyDeleteSee you soon. -JM