Adulthood

Shopping.

I went back to look again at the sheer zip-up jacket, no hood. Black with a pink and red floral pattern. It was creative, impractical, pricey. Lovely. Should I buy it? Yes. No. Yes! I’m not sure..

Cousin.

She walked over in her 10-year-old smiling self. Red purse draped around her neck, not bothering to wear it “properly” – two headbands strategically placed lopsidedly on her head, one a band of gold, another silver with metal flowers, tags sticking up like bunny ears. Her innocence casting these fashion finds in toyish gaudiness just enough to make you reflect on the important things in life – to remember seeing the world like a child. A shift in perspective.

Receipt.

The reality that we so often paint around us in adulthood is but a glittering illusion of expensive dust.

Concession.

I have no qualms with the designer of said jacket. I think it’s wonderful.

underwater

evening.

she spun herself underwater as if gravity were pulling her the other way around

as if the surface of the water were a looking glass into the sky

she touched it with her toe, walking on water, toying with the fabric of the universe

ripples like folds of blue

bubbles like the stars catching fire

swirls of purple majesty and wisps of a silver-cream

silence in slow-motion.

and then she stopped. and it was time to go.