shhh.

When I was little, about 5 years old or so, I lived in a house in Missouri. The house had a living room with a big window that faced west. On Sunday afternoons, after church, my mom and brother would take a nap and I would be left to play quietly by myself.

I would always wonder if turning on the t.v. would be quiet enough. And eventually I reasoned out that if I turned on the t.v. and turned the sound off it would be alright. The only thing on the t.v. on a Sunday afternoon was cooking shows.

Some Sundays I wouldn’t want to watch cooking shows. On those Sundays I would sit on the big chair next to the big window and play with the dust that floated around. Because the sun hit the window at just the right angle, the dust was very easy to see. The dust floated calmly upwards because of a vent that was beneath the big chair. I always pretended that each speck of dust was a person going up the stairs to board a plane. There were business men, women with tired little children, people that were about to miss their flight. Little did they know that they would never get the chance to take off. I would blow the dust people, sending them flying off in all directions. Then I would give the dust people a chance to settle down and resume what they were doing.

But little did they know that their airport repairs were in vain….

posted: 06 December 13
under: Crumbs, High School, Life