My mother is very tiny, child small, and starts making me a sandwich as soon as I walk in the door. I have two and a half and I realize that they will keep coming unless I say something. She puts one in the fridge just in case I need it later. My father doesnt look like a man in his seventies, he just looks like my dad. He informs me that there have been problems with mountain lions wandering into town. When this happens they are shot with tranquilizer darts and put back in the canyons. He thinks it might be too dry up there for them to be comfortable and they are drawn to a more sprinklered environment. The house is shaped like the place I grew up in but there have been enough changes that it feels unfamiliar. The backyard sandbox is filled with stones because the neighborhood cats started using it as a litter box when children stopped regularly playing in it. The mountains are no longer topped with snow like they were when I was a child. We go see a movie in a theatre that wasnt built when I lived here. My mom gets ice cream and talks whenever she has something important to say. I learn that the guy playing the drug dealer was on Downton Abbey. I tell my parents I will meet them at home and walk through the Costco parking lot where a field used to be. A field that I kissed a girl or two in as a teenager, that I used to build garbage forts in as a boy. It has been a while since I have heard crickets. I walk slow. I am told that my bedroom no longer exists, there was some flooding a few years ago and the floor was damaged so they now use the room for storage. I am fine with sleeping on a strange couch. I didnt come here to drown in memories, I came seeking new ones. I take the sandwich from the fridge and eat it.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Sep 2014 14:16:55 +0000
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