Flight-S.K. Nicholas/A Journal for Damned Lovers
Two of my favorite WP writers wrote two very different pieces this week that left me with very evocative images of fireflies. This one is from S.K. Nicholas and captures a beautiful moment of childhood innocence and the joy of living in the moment.
It’s a Sunday, and I’m not thirty-two, but eight. My parents are in the back garden. Dad’s manning the barbeque while Mum’s playing with Monty dog and I’m jumping down the stairs three at a time then I’m running back up and sliding down on my belly and even though there are monsters in the spare bedroom they only come out at night so it’s no big deal. There’s Coke in the fridge and wasps in the air and on the TV some old repeat of the cartoon version of Ghostbusters. In my young mind, I can’t understand how it’s always night time in space, nor where babies come from. One evening, I crept downstairs and spied on my dad watching a dirty film, and the sight of those body parts colliding was enough to turn me off girls forever. Well, not forever, but for a week or so. I…
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Categories: Friends of Brave and Reckless