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The video tape got jammed in the player again, second time this week. Every time I look at you, I think I see two spiders run across the wall behind your head. I keep looking, thinking one time it won’t happen, but it always does.
I made tea for you but it was too strong, so I said I’d make another and couldn’t find any clean spoons. Why aren’t there any clean spoons?

I’m not sure where you’re going, but you ask me to help you get ready. I like the way your hair smells as I comb it through, and you tell me how you cut it yourself but it’s curly so who would know.
Curly. You signed all of my birthday cards Love Curly.

You’re being nice, and I’m wishing I spent every single day here.

The movie begins to play even though we know it got broken a while ago.

It’s June now, and there are still Christmas lights around the window frame, but you’re really here and not gone away like maybe I thought. Like maybe I know you are.

We watch the movie, there’s dancing, and singing, we turn it up way too loud, and cry when it gets sad. It always gets sad.

After a while, the spiders reappear. The spiders always reappear even though I concentrate really hard, and hope they don’t but they do, and they begin to multiply, like the days and years that you don’t show up like this. They scatter and run, so I close my eyes, and lose you.
The tea’s gone cold now, and the fairy lights flicker in sequence. On, off, on, off.
I think it’s time to wake up soon. On, off, on, off.
The movie’s over, it needs rewinding, and I’m waking up. On off, on, off.

 

samrosey fic