The Weekend

Rain: Water falling from the sky. Have you ever heard of anything so strange? “Be patient like a rainbow” It was raining yesterday and now the sky is a wash of blue.

Saturday I went to the farmers market. I love the sounds and the colors and the images, but mostly the smells. Nothing smells as good as what wafts out from under the large tents, people milling around, excitement, eagerness, food. I bought enough food for a soup that I made later that afternoon, and satisfaction welled in me, watching the path the ingredients had taken till their end: my mouth.

Then rush, rush, hurry, to a party. I remember black and white and red. A family was moving down to San Diego. I’ll miss the little girl’s singing. On one of the tables were the most adorable butterfly cupcakes that I had ever seen. I wish I could make beautiful things out of food. It would take practice and diligence. I am not the most diligent of personalities.

Stomach ache: head home. Miss the volunteer picnic that I had been looking forward to.

Wake up. Sleep. Wake up. Head downstairs and talk and make the large room upstairs a spa. My mom and I watch out the window at the gray transparent sky, our faces green from the facial. The moist air whispers against my neck and I am peaceful.

Meeting and my soul sings. Fear as I raise my hand timidly, “Sister Wright.” They call. They made a mistake. I’m not baptized yet, and so I’m only Wendy. I am not yet their sister. I read from the Bible, one of my favorite things to do. Pride.

Home: I Watch Cinderella sing about her corner, her space. Sleep.

My weekend

Now the week had begun and my fragments end. Weeks are full of large complex and practical sentences. They are filled with words like work and study and effort. I am at work right now. There are people around me working on various assignments, their faces a blank canvas. The only emotion that registers is concentration. I have become an expert at spotting concentration. It’s all that I see all day long.