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Virgin Ground
Contributed by
lnnie
on
Sunday, 19th October 2008 @ 02:28:54 PM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
He was the neighbor boy and I, the city girl banished to the countryside to learn hard work from the grandparents who dairy-farmed. l The rumbling train after the long flight, the smell in the air jumbled my brain everything outside that train window seemed isolated, alien and I felt alone.
I sat next to an older woman who without looking whispered see the pretty cow? Her grandchild came from the bathroom late first case of mistaken identity.
Old barn but a beautiful house and a bumpy pickup truck ride later we were there.
Grandpas smell was earthy, gasoline, fresh dirt and he talked the entire while spelling out my chores; all the things I would have to do,
but, he would help, he would show me how to milk the cows.
Grandmas living room was a doily museum everywhere a starched doily, under lamps some with coasters inside one with a flower vase.
This was grandpas and grandmas.
My room was all gingham and florals, muted pinks, greens and reds the one Susie had; all her things preserved there and I began a slow fingering of them
as soon as grandma closed the door;
a 4-H photo of Susie and a dairy cow; a cheerleaders outfit in the closet; a boy and her with prom roses at the front door.
I hug my clothes slowly because some of hers were still there,
and I dropped my tennis bracelet on the closet floor to discover there a loose board.
I pried it loose to discover a shoe box barely visible in the dark.
I froze looked up listening close to see if anyone would be coming up; took my nail file and finished the excavation work;
holding at last in my hand something whose contents I had already pieced together in my mind as to what was in Susies treasure box forgotten there.
Easy open; letters wrapped with a red ribbon jewelry, a photo and other things yet unidentified.
The room secure, I read around the ribbon to see some of the letters had stamps and had been mailed others had not-- written but not mailed. One of these I opened slowly and began to read.
You were my Virgin Spring; my Thomas flower blooming; and I was Virgin Ground. Struck, should I read on or close the letter and put back the top of the shoe box?
Copyright ©
lnnie
... [
2008-10-19 14:28:54] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Virgin Ground
(User Rating: 1 ) by karoody on
Sunday, 19th October 2008 @ 08:13:14 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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a beautiful story. what a journey and day this must have been! thank you for sharing this with us. i adore your writing always. you always give a great story
love smiles blessings
kara |
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Re: Virgin Ground
(User Rating: 1 ) by recklessguy on
Monday, 20th October 2008 @ 02:35:39 AM AEST (User
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a Message)
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You are a writer. Super work. Reminded me of things.
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