Blade / Rebecca Husband (Oak Ridge #2)
Each Christmas, my father complains often wohnlw 5rb 2blSW01 L5I~0.s ~oi1JiG 21 5th about visiting my grandmother. ,11 dguo1fb JUO ;goDIooI 100 lUd "The house is so hot ,q.s115d no ;goin5' bns '{I~25InJ55q2 b5hlol 2bnsrI they keep that thermostat up so that .5won 15d 2.s ln5li2 2.l> heavy hands seat you down wi£l1uJ 5 us;g JIh dguo1fb ~nilJj[mum 1r1~iI 5n1 d1iw and press you forever into the couch, in front of the television. ,15n hnid5d Watch talk shows until your eyes bleed out." oidJ 15n hnu01£ ;gniYluJ '{h5h051 ,lisn Los bS5d 15d 2qUJ Ji .5)£ldrn, h5nlOm £ oj I say (to myself) 25'{5 15d 10 5uId 5Ib dJiw 2552 5n2 J£dw 15hno'N i nwob gni~oo ,{Ii}bi12 lIin ,5Jsl15d 10 JUO b5ni£lh it's like remembering dreams 215hlIJod2 15ri OJ gni;gnib bo.s that you really shouldn't.xr:w 5~iI airless and stuffy; the slight endless touching of soft images mo01 5riJ ~ni15J05 me i against your skin, you look down ,h5ib 15dlOITIbo£1;g-1f>51S '(m 515nw ,25msl) 51UJJiq qu gobbiq and see the scratch marks. 15rbornbn.sl;g '{m 1£ gflj~ool ,15Ib.r.1h01n;g '{m nJiw X£W 5rb qu b515dJs~ bsd 5n05m02 I15dw >.hsd .2J~))b02 5'{5 15n omi )bsd 5uld 5rh b5f!Joom2 hos entering my grandmother's house is like committing a crime, disturbing the air with the movement of the door feels like 5wod 2'15nJOcobnRl;g '{co goiY£51 co£ i breaking into a home and robbing it... 5wod h5d1omhosl;g '{m ;gniYS5l bos here i follow the ugliest brown carpet to the mirror ,5min .& ~nil1immoJ 5~i1 2i where 5~iI 2b5110ob 5dli0 ln5m5vom 5nJ nliw lis 5dl ;gnidlU}2ib not so long ago ,ii oq2 01 JUO JooI 5dl ~Iliys51 hflR ::>coon s ;goidd01 i was not so tall hhow 5bi21UO 5dl oi gnin5l as to allow my head to appear in its image. my teapots are still .5biwi J.& b5rlwn I155d Lsd Jsnw gnico.sn '{llsnn hoI, there, on the table. 5wod 2'15dJOmhflsl~ '{m ~niYS5l i place my bags in the room where my great-grandmother died. 15vol ,UO'{ ~ni'{sll5d 5~iI 2i my brother lodges himself in front of the television. 5won h::Hhomhn£lg '{CO aniYS5l my mother blindly begins to cook and clean. ;gninw01b ~n'uo'{ ;gniJl5g101 5){i! (i my father sweats and tugs his sweater, trapped. '{£W.& ~njn01J1 5){iI
I.
;gniwl~n ')~i[
II.
each footstep is like waking up. noiseless, i am entering the living room, the awful white tree in the corner not lit and barely visible. the room is shrouded in scarce, sheer, lavender light, the kind in which objects seem identically created, lacking specific detail to tell them apart and disregarding all colors, save black. i am now taller than the fireplace.
(>,-'
~ni'{fl5h
'J>!i! nwob ~nDIooI 5~iI .n i~2 lUO'{ no 2~1.sm nJ1S1J2 ;gnihnn bn.s
.IIl
:Vl
:v