Home > you and me > you and me – POSTCARD #4

you and me – POSTCARD #4

This is another one of those special collaborations involving postcards from the north. If you’re not aware of her lovely offer have a look at her blog journal here detailing it – be quick though I think there may only be a couple left.

The phrase was sent in by the talented photographer Jessica Andrews. Make sure you check out her work, it’s really quite extraordinary.

(note – apologies for my ghostly hand and camera reflection in the middle of the image – this was one shiny postcard!)

the words left unsaid and the deeds left undone

Undone

Sean was always daring us to do stupid shit. I remember my last dare was eating that worm at the bottom of the tequila. People’s faces started morphing into demons then I’m coming to at the bottom of a cold shower. Ricky and Po were there that night but they still did his dares. Sean pulls a board out of his bag and Ricky squeals in that falsetto he has, OUJI! Po’s bottom lip sticks out but she leans forward.

We gather around this raised tomb and light the candles. If anyone was to see us they’d think we were sickos. I don’t get the big deal. It’s just dust and bones at the bottom of the concrete slab.  Po slides over to me and her bare arm touches mine. Hairs rise on my forearms and wind howls through the cemetery and I think of how huge these tiny moments are – like someone’s zooming in with their camera on each stiff hair.

Ricky giggles and says that we’re about to summon the dead in this theatrical voice. Sean pays no attention, he’s looking at Po’s arm touching mine. Ricky sees Sean watching so he steps back and does this hand sweep, taking his jumper off and swirling it around like it’s a cape.

I’m not sure if I was about to say cut it out, or it’s that I prefer to remember it that way.

It was a big rusty chain that he tripped over. Hanging off the edge of the tomb, attached to nothing. The sound his head made on the corner of the tomb was like someone dropped a watermelon on the concrete.

He was learning to speak again, is what his mother said when we went to visit. We only went that once.

Advertisements
  1. Jess
    March 16, 2010 at 2:11 pm

    This is incredibly sad, and captures perfectly the weight that regret puts on one’s shoulders. Wonderful writing x

  2. March 16, 2010 at 2:24 pm

    Thanks, Jess. I really liked your phrase and the image itself was one I found quite haunting. Thanks for collaborating with me!

  3. Jess
    March 16, 2010 at 2:46 pm

    this was so much fun, am thinking i will definitely send in another 🙂

    • March 16, 2010 at 2:57 pm

      Oh yes please! I’d love to get one with one of your incredible treasures on it!

  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: