Home takes many different forms.
It was a summers day and all four sisters were on their ways home, which was a rarity for the Wheat family. While the occasion was grime, Jumbelle hopped back and forth across the kitchen, baking and cleaning in preparation for her girls’ arrivals. The gravity of what happened had not set in for Jumbelle. She refused to accept the reality of the situation. Instead, she focused on the apple pie in the oven and the stain in the far right tile of the kitchen.
The house was big and spacious. It echoed when it was only Jumbelle. It had become more quiet the last couple of days. The idea of noise brought Jumbelle excitement and content.
The first sister to arrive was Analynn, the middle sister. Her life strongly personified the stereotypical life of a middle sister. Analynn had been divorced four times. She believed the third time was the charm. He was a lawyer and partner at a law firm. He was different than al of the similar men she had previously been with. He was logical, firm, and steady. Rather than whimsical, artsy, and unrealistic. Analynn, ultimately being who she is and living the life she does, could not conform to that relationship, as she couldn’t her others.
As she slowly drove down the dirt road that lead to their family’s farm home, she was reminded of the memories spent running through the fields of grass and relishing in the vast openness they possessed.
Slowly, she pulled up to the driveway. With reluctancy, she exited her car and walked up the abandoned, creaky steps to the front door. Before she could even knock, her mother threw open the door with excitement.
"My sweet Analynn, come in!"
Awkwardly entering the house brought to Analynn a painful sense of nostalgia.
"Your father loved all four of you, equally and god-willingly, but he had such high hopes for you, Jenny. He wished for your happiness, more than anything, my darlin’."
"See, Mama, there you go again. This is not the time to be clarifying who Daddy’s favorite was," said Mary. "Jenny’s unfortunate and preventable mistakes in love are not to be pitied, she has brought them on herself."
She hoped one day she would love someone so much that she saw violets in the bags under their eyes and sunsets in the downward arch of their lips. She hoped that she would recognize them as something green, something fresh and still growing even if sometimes they were growing sideways. She hoped she would not waste her time trying to fix them.
i only have two speed settings for blogging: “makes you wonder if theyre even still active” or “your entire dash is nothing but me”
If you don’t like Fall Out Boy then fall out of my life
Everyday I’m like “today imma get my shit together” and by the end of the day I’m like “tomorrow is the day for real”