Tell me,' I said. 'Tell me when you notice me.'
I notice you going into church,' Joshua said. 'I notice your hair, how blond it is. But how in some light it looks like it has red in it. I notice the way you smell when we're close. And the way you walk when we're headed home from church and your family gets out of the Temple first. I notice how you are with your family and how you hold your little sisters. I've seen you stand out on your doorstep and look across the desert. I've watched you walk toward the Compound fence and then on past that. You've been walking for years.
I'm old with living.
So much older than almost thirteen.
Hope,
Lizzie says
my name over
and
over
and
over
again.
Hope!
And, oh,
I stand there.
Oh, my heart.
I stand there,
still.
I write because I love how I feel to have written.
Carol Lynch WilliamsTags: on-writing
I'm my mother's first child, born when she was almost fourteen years old.
"Think of it," I said to Laura when I turned twelve. "I'm almost Mother Sarah's age when she was married."
Laura looked at me, her squinty eyes even more narrowed. "You could have your own old man as a husband," she said.
"Shut up," I had said.
And she had laughed.
Together we climbed on the Peace City bus and road back towards my house. My almost normal feeling was gone. I was miles from ordinary now. Miles.
Carol Lynch WilliamsTags: carol-lynch-williams miles-from-ordinary almost-normal
Shut the eff up,' Aaron said. Only he said the REAL swear, the REAL word.
Carol Lynch WilliamsTags: swearing carol-lynch-williams miles-from-ordinary
Lacey-girl, books take you anywhere. Any place you want to go. You remember that always.
Carol Lynch WilliamsTags: books
An accident you're in? It marks you on the outside, maybe. Scars your face or your skin-breaks bones,crushes skulls,leaves the body changed.
An accident witnessed? You're different on the inside. Maybe there's no cut someone else can see, bu there're always injuries on the inside.
Those take a long time to heal.
Tags: healing accidents injuries emotional-wounds
I've become a kissing addict. I think that's it. The buzzy feeling. Burning lips. The foggy eyes. Maybe i could kiss every good-looking guy here at school. Maybe even the good-looking male teachers. The thought warms me and troubles me at the same time.
Carol Lynch WilliamsTags: kissing emotionally-scared
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