A small stone…
is a very short piece of writing that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment.
I’m still trying to figure out if my interpretation is right. I don’t think of stones when I write these. I just think of the moment. I’ll list them all in one post. Which will grow longer, in a river kind of way.
Jan 01, 2012. New Year’s day, early morning
Wild horses up and down the stairs. The cat is in a good mood.
Jan 02, 2012. She’s no cushion
I put my ear on the furball, ribcage height. The vibration inside beats the drum in my ear. The cat escapes my grip, still purring.
Jan 03, 2012. Two trampolines
Two giant trampolines fill up the front garden. One has feet on the ground, the other feet up. The house at the back no longer has a trampoline. It’s still windy.
Jan 04, 2012. Silence
Jan 05, 2012. Autumn in winter
I drive home. Leaves on the road dance ahead of me in the sunshine.
Jan 06, 2012. A bundle of tears
You show that you know. What’s inside it. I loosen my grip. They roll down my face.
Jan 07, 2012. Too tired
Jan 08, 2012. White rose on a grave
The wind has made a bed of leaves for you. You’ve started to melt into it.
Jan 09, 2012. Spaced out
My consciousness velcroed to bars. So it doesn’t kick anyone?
Jan 10, 2012. At the end of the day
My legs are sore from too much thinking.
Jan 11, 2012. Smiling quietly
Jan 12, 2012. Not in stone-throwing mood!
Jan 13, 2012. Foreign toes
Several degrees below my body temperature, these toes are not mine. Just wish the cat would sit on them.
Jan 14, 2012. It’s winter
When you start writing before 4 p.m. in the daylight and finish shortly after 4 p.m. in the dark.
Jan 15, 2012. Earth belly
I lean on the fence watching a bold patch of earth, dug up by pigs. It’s almost back to level now, soft, with a few shades of grass. There’s a strong kind of winter sun on it. I breathe slowly. No. It’s not my breath. The patch of earth rises and sinks back, breathing slowly, only just noticeable.
Jan 16, 2012. Pond
Sparkly, frozen. No ducks.
Jan 17, 2012. Silence
Jan 18, 2012. Instant fingerprint amendment
A shiny stripe on my thumb – the memory of a hot oven. About as wide as the iPhone’s deep. Slots in perfectly.
Jan 19, 2012. Procrastination
The task. Trying to reach it from all sides. Getting lost in its surroundings.
Jan 20, 2012. Old puppy
I leave him to wait for me outside the post office. He doesn’t even sit down. He looks so small.
Jan 21, 2012. Ripples on a pond
The water is alive, vibrating. I try to film it but the wind stops. Should have just watched.
Jan 22, 2012. These aren’t stones
I just chip away in a hurry.
Jan 22, 2012. Silence
…
Jan 26, 2012. Who’s idea was this?
Jan 27, 2012. Silence
Jan 28, 2012. The root of all madness
Ground madness added to a smoothie.
Jan 29, 2012. Stupid girl
Spending all night Saturday working on your website defeats the definition of clever girl.
Jan 30, 2012. Too
Too awake to sleep, too tired to do anything. I’m too useless for my skirt. So useless it hurts. Need sleep.
Jan 31, 2012. The End
Phew.
It smells like winter.