Self-Portrait 2020

Purpose

A Story About Tripping Over Bread

As things have taken a doubtful turn, I race to the corner of the intersection, moving my head to the back to check for traffic turning right. I am mighty in this sweater I proclaim, not wearing it on my run, but in my head as I write about running. I cross over a slippery yellow grid and see three bright orange pylons. There is a construction site to my right, and a small mall with a Bell store and I always seem to think a Cobs, but there isn’t. This is the fastest I’ve gone in it must be over a year, I thought. I felt impressed with my speed but knew I still had a long way to go. Will there be a huge difference once my shoes stop blinking purple? The lights were slowly changing to green, then orange, then nothing. I could see the lavender bear making its way over the crest of Gladwin Rd, heading toward Mission, where the Vedder river was, and Chilliwack. My heart was in the that town for some reason. The bread? The bread would be over on Monday, so better start relying on something else for pleasure, I thought. I was already home, wiping the rain off my make-uped brow and scanning the kitchen for my pint of water. The bear’s cries could be heard, and thunder rang in the deep blue sky. RipnDip, I thought, taking my hoodie off. The scars on my back were getting better. It just took a little temper, and ignorance for it to heal itself back to smooth, normal skin. Vanity or was it purpose? What answer do you recommend?

14 – Alice

How long has it been? Alice combed through her blonde hair with a piece of honeycomb she found under a tree. There was no one else in the forest today. A deep and thick fog covered everything, except the very top of the trees. Alice peered up and saw an entranceway. It was in the shape of an eye and blue cartoon birds flew through it, looking for food. I have food here, she thought, squishing her honeycomb in her dry hands. It was rather crisp and some of it just crumbled apart. Alice squished her nose and dropped it, wiping her hands on her pinafore. So, now you think we’re talking about cartoon Alice here don’t you? Is it because no images have been shown of our true character Alice? Well, let’s take a second then to describe what she looks like. But beware. She screams when she hears people talking about her. Even if it’s nice things. But I believe her screams aren’t scary or terrifying or an indication of danger. She’s just a kid, that Alice. In fact, she’s only 3.