34 / 156
36
Flurry
A young girl dashes through the gate, clunking down the street, bag heaving,
shoes thumping.
At the opposite end of the school, her near mirror image dawdles out of class,
mind full.
Collection:
We traveled many experiences in life independently, though you
were always there to guide me around obstacles.
The counsellors don’t get it. ‘She probably doesn’t realize what
she’s dealing with. Try to help her; I know it’s hard. People with
ASD tend to have a limited emotional scale,’ they belch out to my
parents, as if I’m deaf. Of course I get it. Of course I know what
happened.
I did it.
Tentatively, she steps out into a vehicle’s path. The tram squeals and slows. With
bursting lungs she squishes inside. The driver frowns, flustered – already behind
schedule.
Curls bouncing, her petite, passive face gazing deeply into a void – thud, thud…
Vaporization:
You always came back to me and we journeyed together.
A thin, quiet girl, puffed, settles herself, pressed between bulging school bags.
Though her eyes avoided any contact, they glittered with thought.
The driver leaned on the wheel – anxious.
Mind full, science essay.
Clouds:
Somewhere up there; you never came back down. You stayed hidden
amongst the clouds, perhaps with God, perhaps with no one.
As clouds grow darker, it’s harder to see you and my heart mimics
their grief. Dragging my soul further down the slimy walls of a
bottomless well, full of despair.
She glanced up: an urban city, bustling street… Jessie stepping onto the road to
join her.
Thud, thud, thu –
Rain:
Now, I’m like drizzle. That pathetic, inconvenient splutter that barely
punctures the gloomy air, when above a thundering black mass bears
7