15 Minute Challenge
They watch their footsteps in fascination as, crashing through puddle after puddle, tiny gray tsunamis wash the pebbles and grass out in circles from their Wellington boots. It is 1992. Sariya still has dark hair, bobbed neatly around her chin underneath her pale blue rain coat.
Andrew calls for her attention as he runs, light speed, toward another puddle, and aiming his feet with the precision of a marksman, sends a splash that they're sure could be seen from space with a good enough telescope.
Sariya shrieks with glee. She runs to do the same but isn't quite so talented, and upon landing, slips into the puddle and soaks her jumper underneath. She immediately howls as fat tears roll down her eyes, trying to shove the mud away from her to no avail. Andrew, laughing, yanks her out of the puddle and tries a couple of spells with his little bit of wand he carries around in his pocket. This has no effect except that she stops crying and starts hiccuping.
You ought to stop crying, he says. Or else.
She does stop. Or else what?
Or else you're gonna be an old man like me!
He pulls off his hood, exposing his full head of silver hair, and squinting his round brown eyes, hobbles around into another puddle. She holds her stomach and laughs.
Don't you want to be an old man like me?
No, no!
He hobbles after her a bit, the both of them screaming with laughter, until finally he pulls his hood back over his already damp hair.
Alright then! These puddles ain't gonna splash themselves, Soldier! We've got loads to do!
She salutes like he showed her earlier. Right-o, Sergeant!
When their handiwork is finished (every puddle, already rippled by the February drizzle, is a mess of mud and bits of grass and cloudy brown rainwater), he slings his arm around her shoulder and they walk home.
Auntie Feronia scolds them for getting their clothes wet, and drying her hair later, exclaims:
Is that a silver hair I see? Looks like you've gotten a little bit older since you went outside.
Sariya turns, her eyes wide, and starts howling with sobs.
24 September 2007
the sudden wave of silver born in you
Andrew calls for her attention as he runs, light speed, toward another puddle, and aiming his feet with the precision of a marksman, sends a splash that they're sure could be seen from space with a good enough telescope.
Sariya shrieks with glee. She runs to do the same but isn't quite so talented, and upon landing, slips into the puddle and soaks her jumper underneath. She immediately howls as fat tears roll down her eyes, trying to shove the mud away from her to no avail. Andrew, laughing, yanks her out of the puddle and tries a couple of spells with his little bit of wand he carries around in his pocket. This has no effect except that she stops crying and starts hiccuping.
You ought to stop crying, he says. Or else.
She does stop. Or else what?
Or else you're gonna be an old man like me!
He pulls off his hood, exposing his full head of silver hair, and squinting his round brown eyes, hobbles around into another puddle. She holds her stomach and laughs.
Don't you want to be an old man like me?
No, no!
He hobbles after her a bit, the both of them screaming with laughter, until finally he pulls his hood back over his already damp hair.
Alright then! These puddles ain't gonna splash themselves, Soldier! We've got loads to do!
She salutes like he showed her earlier. Right-o, Sergeant!
When their handiwork is finished (every puddle, already rippled by the February drizzle, is a mess of mud and bits of grass and cloudy brown rainwater), he slings his arm around her shoulder and they walk home.
Auntie Feronia scolds them for getting their clothes wet, and drying her hair later, exclaims:
Is that a silver hair I see? Looks like you've gotten a little bit older since you went outside.
Sariya turns, her eyes wide, and starts howling with sobs.
24 September 2007
the sudden wave of silver born in you