Do you remember being young and in the firm belief that the universe existed the day you were born, the world was timeless, everything was always there, would always be there? Your parents were these timeless mostly benevolent beings that would always be there.
Do you remember how the world always seemed just on the verge of magic? A tree stump could become a house for little people. The sky full of cloud pillows shaped like fish that swam through and endless blue shell.
I like to reel my mind back, stopping a little ways in to look around to remember what the grape soda tasted like a summer camp. I can smell the chlorine in the pool at my grandpa’s condo, my always hungry stomach and the taste of veal cutlet, carrots, and mashed potatoes.
I remember my sister staying with me. Suzanne and I were separated. She left for a booty call, spending half the day in the shower first. When she went home, I cleaned the bathroom. It looked like she shaved a cat in there, and I remember laughing while I scrubbed the tub down.
My grandmother took us to circus. My cousin and I told my grandmother that the elephants had buts that looked just liker her’s. She was pissed and yelled at us. My cousin was a bit of a bad influence.
Sometimes I walk through their houses. Houses arranged in a way that can only come from being comfortable in the same place for decades. I see their things in their places.
I have some of their stuff, but nothing they owned keeps their magic.
I’ve grown old enough to see the past in a kind of still life. The houses are gone, the people I thought were timeless have passed.
It all goes way too fast when you are standing still.
Mirrored from Theater of JP's Mind.