Fifteen

“Look! There he is—it's Little Red Riding Hood!”
“Is he wearing those red sweat pants again?!” I ask. “Ha, ha, ha, ha!”
“He's so awkward and weird,” she says.
“Yeah, no kidding,” I answer.
5 months, and much irony later.
“I think I'm in love with Red,” I say as we're walking down the hallway. “I can't stop thinking about him, and it's NOT to make fun.”
“Are you serious?!” my friend asks.
“Yeah, I look for him all the time,” I sigh. “I dream about him marching around outside my window, serenading me with his trumpet. He’s beautiful.”

Marriage

Blue Valentine. She finished watching this movie for the second time in as many days. Although she would've done better from a second viewing of Eat, Pray, Love, she knew she'd never be Julia Roberts—beautiful, rich, and lucky in love. On second thought, she had been lucky in love once. She thought then of how her father had proudly walked her down the aisle, how her groom had tears in his kind, brown, eyes, how their friends dropped confetti just as the Justice of the Peace pronounced them “man and wife”. They made promises, laughed, and posed for pictures.

Soulmates

Birds’ last songs fly out of the trees and over the moonlit clearing where they wait. They're all here: friends, enemies, lovers, witnesses of something yet to come. They aren't talking tonight, but Laura doesn't mind. Bobby’s finally coming up from the valley below. His sandy-hair glistens as he runs barefoot up the hill, firmly grasping a suspender in his right hand and a bunch of bluebonnets in the other. “You always did run like a girl,” she laughs. “I thought you wasn’t comin'.”
“Sorry, I come as quick as I could,” and he lays the flowers on the ground.

Impressum

Texte: Sandra Davidson
Bildmaterialien: Sandra Davidson
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.04.2012

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