Sometimes he made lists

Sometimes he made lists of strange things, whatever came to mind - lists of new words and old words and favorite words, lists of places to go and not go, lists of books still to be read.  He doubted anyone would read these notebooks when he was gone. But it was a capsule of his own history, things that he actually witnessed, things that were his very own.

There was too much to write this time, too many words he was afraid to see on paper, as if that would make it more real.  He pressed the tip of the pen to paper and the ink make a round splotch.  He let the pen cascade across the paper, like a scroll, picturing the way Edie’s hair flew when she rode on Gray’s back and trying to sketch it, but he couldn’t capture the horse and he couldn't capture her, not that way, and he scribbled over the top of it, turning to a fresh page.

He made a list of all the things he remembered, minutiae like the soft down on her face.  The curl of her upper ear like a sandbar in a river.  Purple shadows underneath her eyes and the hum of her voice when she whispered.  A surprising peek of blue lace on her shoulder.  The slight curve of her back, as if she held a hollow inside.  He took pleasure in every nuance.  It was the only indulgence he’d be allowing himself.  This list would be a sort of goodbye - the end of it.

(This is a snippet of my writing.  You might know why I'm sharing it after I post tomorrow...)


  1. A lovely snippet--and now I'm curious!

  2. Love the little snippet. Can't wait for tommorrows post. (:
    Also I was wondering if you would check out my last post about my future appartment - it's just that I love your bohemian style and I kinda have a little issue considering the present color of the living room's wall - orange. It bothers me but unfortunately we are not allowed to overpaint it. So I really need help and would highly appreciate it if you'd leave any advice or idea if there is any. Thank you.
    Much love,

  3. Thanks Diane and Jay! Jay I'd love to check out your apartment... on my way there now.

  4. This is a beautiful and delicate piece of writing ... the perfect treat for me to read on a crisp autumn day.