“…the shadow that creeps and crawls toward the door to escape the light that casts and gathers the shadow under the gap - I’ll grab its hand so it won’t run away…” -from “Story - Late Summer or Early Fall” by Yoo Hekyling, translated from Korean by Shine An
Stories that are not mine: SAT scores swim times college applications fractured elbows APUSH HOCO '24
What’s mine:
Last night, instead of cleaning the kitchen, instead of making sure all the laundry was put away like I promise I’ll do on Fridays when the weekend is full of possibility, instead of asking the girls a billion questions how’s your elbow, have you done your KCO’s, can I help you with your college essays, are you ready for tomorrow, have you packed fruit and vegetables in your lunch, are your friends nice are you nice to your friends, I went outside to our little garden to pick the grape tomatoes we planted in June along with basil and chives and rosemerry. Mint, too. A toad hopped by my foot and bees worked on the oregano next to me. Corby thunked against the backyard fence - lightly, but insistantly - no louder than the buzz of the bees and the rustle the toad made trying to get where it was going. (Did it even know? Do any of us?) What comedy there is in this rearrangement of my world standing out here with a dog trying to get as close to me as she can, and bees I’m not afraid of and worrying about a toad so small I barely noticed it, and a week’s worth of tomatoes toppling out of the bowl while I walk inside.
Maybe the light needs to let go of the memories. Let the shadow out the door.