August 18, 2005
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22, for Brenda:
She would rebuild.
That's what she was telling herself. She would find what she needed and, brick by brick, dollar by dollar...
She sipped at her coffee and wrote in her little notebook. The one where she poured all these things in a torrent of barely-legible scribbles. She flipped through the previous pages, remembering the writing, seeing the occassional sketch or diagram. Her plans for success, her lists of needs versus desires, her ruminations on the ideals of philosophy and a life well lived. What was all this worth right now?
She started to tear up. Wiping at her eyes, as if yawning, trying to hide it. There wasn't any more crying to do. She closed her eyes and sat up straight and felt more empty than she ever had.
Brick by brick, dollar by dollar, emotional foundation by emotional foundation. She laughed at how silly that sounded.
(The origins of this story here.)
Comments (1)
I just found this! Hilarious! A little truth there, too. Though I don't have a notebook like that, not with desires and needs, lists and diagrams. Maybe I ought to, though! Philosophical ruminations, now that's another story....
Thank you for this, homerman, your wit and wisdom most insightful.
With much affection, Brenda xo
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