writers cramp 20th anniversary contest day 5 |
I didn't think I would find anything I would want going back there. It was all too painful. That was the last place I was happy and I didn't want to remember any of that. When I opened up the crate in the attic. Inside I found my favorite doll. She was four inches tall made of green and yellow yarn. Her dress was a green napkin tied around her waist with daisy stickers around the end that brushed the floor. Her hat was a painted bottlecap. Things had been so different before the rose glasses fell away and reality hit me in the face. I petted Daisy's yarn hair I could almost see the face that had always been only imaginary. I stared at her a while longer and the knotted yarn toes became the ballerina slippers they had always been. Her dress transformed into gossamer green silk with fine embroidered daisyies around the hem. She wore a hat shaped like a daisy blossom. The knots that were her hands transformed with delicate fingers. This was my Daisy. I heard my father yell at my mother and clutched Daisy to my chest, rocking in the dust of the attic. I could smell my mother's daisy-scented perfume I frequently practically drowned Daisy in. I couldn't see through the tears. I sat wrapped in the memories clutching scraps of yarn and tissue. I was so wrong, there was magic to find in this attic. I put Daisy back in the top of my crate of treasures and took them out to the car. They could tear the damn house down if they wanted. I have what was important. prompt ▼ |