further oddity
4 August 2005 01:23![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amulI realized that the reason there's so few entries about Roo in my archives is because I dated her before I started an LJ.
Another memory :
It's Thanksgiving over at the Carter Home For Wayward Girls, and Anne is in the kitchen cooking up some stuff. Two or three dozen people are there, and William Bleys was being cranky, so I picked him up out of his high chair and rocked him gently, crooning the song I always sing to him. I turn to press my cheek against his forehead, and past the dining room, through the short bit of hallway and standing in the kitchen, I see Roo, staring at me.
Our eyes locked, and time slowed down, like it always does in the movies. Everybody was moving at quarter speed, sound became distorted. There was a look in her face, an expression, that I couldn't quite place. Maybe she was thinking, "he's so good with kids!" Or maybe she was just thinking about how badly she wanted a child of her own. I asked her about it, months later, but she didn't remember. The event did not strike her as strongly as it hit me.
Could she hear my song over the crowd? I swayed slowly, freezing in time, and could already see the slow moving figure about to walk through the direct beam that was my eyes locked into hers. I tried to rush out the next verse before this strange connection was lost.
If you could hear me now
Singing somewhere through the lonely night
Dreaming of the arms that held me tight
If you could only hear me now
And then someone walked between us, and Time got back on his feet and suddenly there was a party around me again.
It was a few months after we'd broken up, I think. Time-sense is skewed during that part of my life.
Another memory :
It's Thanksgiving over at the Carter Home For Wayward Girls, and Anne is in the kitchen cooking up some stuff. Two or three dozen people are there, and William Bleys was being cranky, so I picked him up out of his high chair and rocked him gently, crooning the song I always sing to him. I turn to press my cheek against his forehead, and past the dining room, through the short bit of hallway and standing in the kitchen, I see Roo, staring at me.
Our eyes locked, and time slowed down, like it always does in the movies. Everybody was moving at quarter speed, sound became distorted. There was a look in her face, an expression, that I couldn't quite place. Maybe she was thinking, "he's so good with kids!" Or maybe she was just thinking about how badly she wanted a child of her own. I asked her about it, months later, but she didn't remember. The event did not strike her as strongly as it hit me.
Could she hear my song over the crowd? I swayed slowly, freezing in time, and could already see the slow moving figure about to walk through the direct beam that was my eyes locked into hers. I tried to rush out the next verse before this strange connection was lost.
If you could hear me now
Singing somewhere through the lonely night
Dreaming of the arms that held me tight
If you could only hear me now
And then someone walked between us, and Time got back on his feet and suddenly there was a party around me again.
It was a few months after we'd broken up, I think. Time-sense is skewed during that part of my life.
