My mother was strong, far stronger than I had ever known. She lived on the edge of the smoking volcano and ignored the ash and heat. I am not that strong.I took a serious look at my life. I realized I had been living in the illusion that my life would always be safe and comfortable. I was a poor student and up until then had no ambition. What I wanted now was that safe and protected feeling that I had lost. I had always been attracted to boys who like my father exuded confidence and bravado. I had lost my virginity to the school’s star basketball player just after I turned sixteen.Tito Jefferson was a very tall and good-looking black boy. It lasted six weeks. I enjoyed the sex. I was on the pill. The next boy lasted a little longer before we broke up. I slept with him, as well. My current steady was a tennis player a bit older at nineteen. I had not gone to bed with him yet. I was no slut who just dropped her pants at the first opportunity. A guy needed to work for it and show the. Under my feet, grass is growing thick and flowers are pushing their way out of the ground – it was springtime after all, I simply hadn’t noticed. In the distance, the sky is dark but calm, and where the clouds shade the earth I can see the soft wink of fireflies, and hear the earnest call of spring peepers. Where the sun breaks through there is a rainbow, spreading a brilliant arc across the sky, and I lift my arms up as the wool thread – its colors running into an unattractive grey – uncoils, snakelike, from my arms. The sun is pleasantly hot, and the air is soft with steam rising from the warmed earth, curling my hair even as it dries. The flowers open in explosions of color, and sweet cool breezes stir butterflies in the tall grass. The sweater unravels faster and faster, and I turn my attention back just in time to see it disappearing from my wrists, the last knot coming undone with a wet snap, sending droplets flying that I try to catch on my tongue. And then it is gone, and I.
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