On certain evenings, while my father snored on the couch, ignoring the raging TV, my mother unwrapped her razor blades and placed a tissue on the floor in front of her chair. A cigarette smoldered between her pursed lips and she slowly became shrouded in a smoky blue halo. She lifted her feet, one at a time, onto her knees where she sliced the calluses from her soles, building a pile of hard flesh on the tissue. Then, my mother smoothed the skin with a metal file, and I retreated to my room to avoid inhaling her dusty foot particles.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
100 Words About My Mother (inspired by MissMeliss, on her birthday).
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9 comments:
Wow, I get to play muse as well as fairy, I'm honored indeed.
My fairy wish for you is a bit selfish. I wish for you to find the inpsiration to continue such experiments with tone, style, and theme, as you have all along.
I gagged a little at the thought of inhaling her foot dust:)
I might be inspired to start an entry but choosing a different number of words. Good post! I shuddered initially at the unwrapping of the razorblades... at that point, the story could have gone anywhere:)
that's hardcore...i would never trust myself with razor blades...she must have had very lovely feet after all that attention...
You have a knack for writing the most oddly ICKY posts! :)
*reminds self not to pick at hard skin on feet during forthcoming visit*
your-wife's-cousin
ok..I have to agree with that last person who posted about your oddly
icky post...but what was that about your mother!!! Really...the
image...even though I don't know what your mother looks like..but why would
you tell people that!!!
Why not?
Hey I really like your blog. Ive only just got into this blog world. And generally when I hit "next blog" I dont get too enthusiastic about what I read. But I like the way you write, makes me want to keep on reading. ill definitely visit your blog again.
This is one of the most honest recollections I've seen on a blog. (Ugh, though...)
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