2004-08-12 || 7:26 p.m.

|| textbook of anatomy and physiology ||

i am on the porch looking through my mum's textbooks from nursing school. i removed a paper clip that was probably situated on page 90 (the skeletal system. depressions and openings. projections or processes.) in 1967, back when my mother answered to her maiden name (written in momcursive on the inside cover) and had no idea who kevin h was or that he would come into her life by way of a magical combination of a graveyard shift and kidney stone. when i moved it a rust shadow remained, and i was sure that by running my finger across it i would get a psychic glimpse into the past: straightening her hair on an ironing board on friday nights, smoking cigarettes at the kitchen table, the flowered curtains hung up haphazardly in torrance, california.

previous || next || random

guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land

Site Meter