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the study

The left thumb. That’s the sucking one. I know, because right now she’s sitting beside me, face cool with concentration, index finger almost touching her nose, almost. Her right hand holds Ninnie’s (Minnie Mouse’s) arm. Her fingers work the flimsy arm back and forth, mindlessly knitting at the graying pink fur. Her index finger reaches up and touches her nose. She readjusts and begins again.
He’s finished the Skittles hidden in his sweatshirt pocket. His hands still within the pocket now. I imagine the Skittles flecked with fur, the pocket sticky. His legs stretch out; he’s taller now. He farts, rattling the couch cushion, and they both giggle. Who needs a joke?
Her shoulders are up, her neck disappeared into her ruffled shirt collar,  like her ears are cold and her shoulders are keeping them warm. Hands and fingers work away, the thumb, the Ninnie. Eyelashes long and lovely.
She’s just spied me studying her. Out pops the thumb, glistening with wet. Up pops a ravishing smile, little teeth all aligned and neatly spaced, head tilted to the side. “Why you doing dat?”
He peeks around, his father’s nose, sea-blue eyes. Handsome. “She’s writing her story….” Now, they’re studying me. “Aren’t you going to put page numbers on it?”
I watch and breathe them in when they’re still and I can. Breathe. Them. In. This won’t last, not even past dinner. I’m reminded by songs, and my elders, and home movies….so many changes already….And they’re studying me too.



Copyright © 2012. Carrie Ellen Campbell. All Rights Reserved. http://carriellencampbell.blogspot.com. Please respect Carrie's intellectual property. Sharing blog posts is permitted, but no part of this material may be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Contact Carrie at: carrieellencampbell@icloud.com.
 

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