| The smell of dust settling
in my grandparents apartment - around my bike. I take a deep breath of the musk, and remember building cardhouses, the sounds of laughter echoing across the wooden floor. And The sound of hundreds of cardhouses, falling over one after another in a large dominal chain,- spanning the expanse of the entire floor. The cards lying flat on their faces, strewn across the path of the whole exploit. The aftermath. Sitting and looking at it all. The pride. The accomplishment. Tomorrow, we would do it all again - with a different pattern. |
Copyright ©2007 Ashi Shadow 8/1/07
was actually referring to my bike here, in my apartment. It was dusty
around there today, or smelt like it.
The person I built the cardhouses with was actually my brother (but it was
my grandparents' apartment, I was about 6).
under the dusty sunlight;-
under streams of dusty sunlight
from the windows -
My grandfather had a collection of about 6 or 8 packs of cards in a bag,
composed of packs that were missing cards.