Wednesday, 10 August 2011

That Time

The smell from my elbow radiates through my sleeve. It is that time again. I watch her. From a different seat. Through different arches. I rub my hand over my stomach. The black fabric snagging on the ulcers. The holes nobody sees. Oozing quietly. Hurting me every time I fold or bend. I wonder if my card is lost or if it has been stored in a catalogue of unsolved prayers the father reads on a Saturday night. Everybody asks the same. Help. Remember. Help. Her tiny shoulders must ache. I hope the father holds the baby for a while. It is hard. Holding two worlds. One outside. One in. Maybe it rubs her stomach too. An unholy collision of prayer and need. I worry the nail polish off my finger. Nobody is immune from me. From the smell that leaks out and doesn’t wash off. Red goes dark the longer it is exposed to air. I keep myself under. Gather up the rust on pieces of lint. Collect the drench of time. Sniff at it like prayers on a Saturday night. But that time becomes one time. Stuck together unsolved in a box. In a drawer. Under me.
Posted by at
Labels:

24 comments:

  1. Old Egg10 August 2011 at 05:30

    What an extraordinary piece of prose. 200 riveting words telling a tale of infinite sadness; of complete despair. I think everyone has the two worlds, the inside and the out. The challenge is to manage them, not let them manage you. You are a great wordsmith Jae.

    ReplyDelete
  2. annell410 August 2011 at 05:57

    This is what I get, in That Time, you are acknowledging that she is sacred, like Mary. And It isn't easy to be "like Mary," and you "hope the Father will hold the baby for a while." You say that everyone asks for the same thing and maybe one time is all-time? And you have control of it all? Of course I never know, and maybe it really doesn't matter, perhaps it is for each to "get" his own conclusion? You are truly a master of the mystery.

    ReplyDelete
  3. LeiffyV10 August 2011 at 06:07

    The two worlds we have; the one within and the one without. The holes inside lead to the one outside, the decay inside leads without. I have to admit, this is a great tale that dances around my head with hit's dark power. Makes me wonder...

    Great piece Jae, glad I had a chance to read before I left for work!

    ReplyDelete
  4. christopher10 August 2011 at 06:09

    Jae, I agree with oldegg. Mainly wow. This is powerful writing and a desperate situation described with enough indirection to let me read without turning away. Wow. Well done.

    ReplyDelete
  5. glnroz10 August 2011 at 06:12

    each visit,,,higher rung,,on the ladder..

    ReplyDelete
  6. Jae Rose10 August 2011 at 07:15

    Thanks for counting the words OldEgg..a round 200..liking symmetry that is good to know..like smithing a horse shoe..thank you..

    I am probably as much lost in the mystery as the people who kindly stop by..thank you Annell :)

    I hope the work day was a good one Leiffy..thank you for reading..glad I could provide a bowl full of darkness for breakfast..

    Thanks Christopher..'indirection' is the perfect word..really need to tape left and right stickers to my shoes..

    Thanks for climbing the ladder with me Glenn..

    Jae

    ReplyDelete
  7. Unknown10 August 2011 at 07:25

    I wonder...

    Does she know that rusty lint can be discarded, packing can be balm that soothes, creates sweet pink replacing red? That ulcers can be treated, cured; and wounds leave scars of victory, but heal?

    Does she know that pain, oozing holes, festering from within, will all respond to gentle treatment, release the vile, replace with healthy flesh?

    Does she know? Does she know she deserves this?

    ReplyDelete
  8. Jae Rose10 August 2011 at 07:36

    Probably underneath all the stickiness she does..but she would never let on that she did..thank you Kim.. ;)

    ReplyDelete
  9. VL Sheridan10 August 2011 at 08:47

    There's something "angelic" about this narrator Jae; the line "nobody is immune from me" almost makes me wonder if this isn't Death? A very old, very weary Death, who, despite his/her job, is still able to be compassionate enough to hope the father takes the baby for a while in order to let the mother rest. Your work, as always, is truly brilliant Jae.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Jae Rose10 August 2011 at 08:51

    What a great thought VL - thank you..Jae

    ReplyDelete
  11. Sheilagh Lee10 August 2011 at 09:39

    The two worlds we have; the one within and the one without. Your prose lives me speechless in it's beautiful descriptive.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Scribbler10 August 2011 at 09:48

    This was a really sweeping, moving, captivating piece that has stuck in my mind since I read it earlier this morning. I love "the holes that nobody sees" and the mysterious sense of who this person is and who he is watching. Riveting :)

    ReplyDelete
  13. Alice Audrey10 August 2011 at 10:25

    This captures the feeling of illness so well.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Jae Rose10 August 2011 at 10:34

    Thank you Sheilagh..

    Nice to see you Scribbler..I like that you see the narrator as a 'he'..

    Thank you Alice..

    Jae

    ReplyDelete
  15. Daydreamer10 August 2011 at 12:21

    This reads like the mixed up thoughts of innocence and guilt that someone needs to confess. Wishes to be found guilty for sins yet, knows underneath it all, they really are not guilty, they are just used to accepting or expecting to take the blame. So, it's like a submitting to the inevitable because it's what is expected and, nothing more.
    Probably totally wrong, too. :)
    Deep, complex and lovely.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Susannah10 August 2011 at 12:56

    "It is hard. Holding two worlds. One outside. One in."

    "An unholy collision of prayer and need."

    Such wonderful lines Jae!

    An emotive and intriguing read that as always, has a way of wrapping itself around you and drawing you into her world.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Poetic Soul10 August 2011 at 14:52

    I'm a bit slow today, I had to read it twice before understanding... Beautiful writing

    ReplyDelete
  18. Jae Rose11 August 2011 at 05:21

    No, right as ever I should think DayDreamer..always appreciate your take on my scribbles..

    Thanks Susannah..good to see you back at TWW..

    Don't worry Poetic Soul..I'm always slow..

    Jae

    ReplyDelete
  19. Mike Patrick11 August 2011 at 07:28

    You have posed a puzzle, allowing the imagination to fill in the blanks. Mine kept swirling the pieces around until it saw a female veteran, horribly disfigured in a war. She’s back, suffering mental illness and living on the streets. She watches her pregnant daughter from afar, praying her daughter receives the help she is unable to give her.

    A fascinating piece. I’ve never tried to write anything like it, but it could be a genre unto itself.

    ReplyDelete
  20. gautami tripathy11 August 2011 at 08:45

    A complex piece. It touched me. And also caused pain. That is the beauty of this piece...



    ashes of radiating electrons

    ReplyDelete
  21. Jae Rose12 August 2011 at 03:27

    Thanks for giving me a new view of the story too Mike..

    Thank Gautami..beautiful new profile pic..

    Jae

    ReplyDelete
  22. erer12 August 2011 at 13:14

    You make sadness sound so beautiful. Almost eternal.

    ReplyDelete
  23. Ren12 August 2011 at 16:00

    You must meditate before you write this stuff. I, for the life of me, cannot figure out how you get so deep with just three words to prompt you.
    Amazing as usual :)

    ReplyDelete
  24. Jae Rose13 August 2011 at 04:35

    Thank you Warm Sunshine..

    Thanks (as usual!) Ren..never tried meditation! Maybe I should..

    Jae

    ReplyDelete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)