drawingwithwords

She entered the fast food restaurant on a sunny autumn Sunday, with a small transport cage tucked under her arm. The clerk didn't look up until she put the cage down on the counter. The day had been quiet, there were only a handful of customers present, all eating in relative silence. The clerk almost asked her to remove the cage, then remembered that the customer was always right, even when they were wrong, and and settled for what he hoped was a serviceable smile. "Good day, miss, and welcome to Hamburger and Company. How my I help you?" She smiled at him, a smile that made him wonder if he'd just given her some sort of enlightenment. Sti

Hurry, darling, come inside, to me. It's evening, soon The monsters will roam free. They hunt out there, Forever in the night. But here, inside, you're safe In fire's light. You must not go outside At end of day. They'll hunt you down, You cannot get away. Child, come inside, be safe 'Till night-time ends. While Mommy goes outside To join her friends.

There is a shadow in front of me. I stare at it. Clouds hide the sun. The shadow remains. It stares back. We don't move. Snowflakes whirl between us. Frost turns my hair white. Tentatively, I move an arm. The shadow does nothing. Water drips from my hair as the color returns to it. Flowers climb up my leg. Roots drink water, leaves drink sunlight. I breathe. Ripples run through the shadow. Rain runs down my face, like crystal tears from the sky. I close my eyes. Seasons pass before they open. There is a shadow in front of me.

She'll never get used to seeing herself in the mirror. Sometimes, she wonders if the others have to check the mirror twice to see if the reflection really is theirs, too. She has never asked. She knows what they will say. The scars were a bit startling, at first, but she got used to them, far more quickly than she'd expected. Most of her friends and family had new ones, bad ones, as well. Maybe that had something to do with it. The scars are another part of her, now. What really makes her pause every time she sees her reflection, is her hair. It's white-blond, as it always have been. So many had commented on it, stared at her, asked her

Det første som slår reporteren idet hun stiger ut av bilen, er alt metallet. Skrapmetall uten noen særlig verdi, men det er over alt. Bølgeblikk, gamle jernbanespor, nagler, noen få forvridde sykler, ulike stenger og rør. Luften her er stillestående og kvelende i forhold til den kjølige luften i bilen. Den siste uken har en hetebølge plaget byen, og selv om eiendommen ligger på havneområdet, gjør metallet det nærmest ulevelig. Best å komme i skyggen raskest mulig. En siste sjekk av innholdet i vesken hennes, for å være sikker på at hun ikke mangler noe, f