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an old friend sent me a link to this house I used to rent it is all gutted nothing but walls and floors for sale now this husk of home on long island even then I was sad living on the street marilyn monroe used to vacation on a newlywed in this tiny cabin it was supposed to be a beginning but all I can remember is the black mold growing in the basement and the silent days of endless longing in the spring tiny worms fell from the trees and caught in my hair and covered the street I tried to imagine they were silk worms but it didn't work so I stopped taking walks I tried to get a job at this place that made grave stones because it was beautiful in a way I couldn't describe but ended up working at trader joe's instead all the customers were mean and I cried in the stock room during my breaks I made a friend who hated it there as much as I did one day while I was sitting on an empty pallet smoking a cigarette day dreaming about being a famous writer she pointed out a dead sparrow in the parking lot and asked me to save it I held it in my hands imagined it was alive and it flew away she smiled and said I knew you could save things at night I went home to a man who didn't speak his stony silence was not the wedded bliss I had imagined so I started writing to kill the the loneliness I wrote about a girl that was a changeling with a fairy mother and a demon dad that was never around I never finished it I never finish a lot of things when we moved they told us the house was going to be torn down I kept finding these baby possums under the porch I saved them in a shoe box and took them to an animal shelter they didn't want them but took them anyway I bet they died because I never found their mother I looked and looked but she hid under the porch I bet she died too from sorrow
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AuthorMichelle Tinklepaugh Archives
June 2023
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