TM-258: What words would you like to see added to/removed from common use?
[redwings_sam used with permission.]
What words would you like to see added to/removed from common use?
The day after Thanksgiving, Sharon visited her parents for the first time since before she’d been brainwashed.
She’d had Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday, with Sam, at a community Thanksgiving event in Harlem. Sam had helped to organize it, and Sharon had surprised herself with how much she enjoyed the chance to be there. Since she’d joined the Birds of Prey, Sharon had begun feeling useful again, but being with Sam in his work reminded her of just how many other things, outside of her usual experience, could make a person feel needed and productive.
But now it was the weekend, and Sharon’s parents had called several times, dancing around the subject of Thanksgiving and how long it had been since they’d seen their little girl. So Sharon talked to Sam, and, by Saturday morning, they were hopping on a train for the five-hour ride to Richmond.
The experience was largely uneventful. Sharon’s parents enjoyed Sam; she could tell that right from the start. They’d met him before, of course, much earlier in all of their careers, and they’d liked him then. Sharon hadn’t expected anything less. They didn’t blink at the color of his skin, or his known resistance to the SHRA, or the fact that he was the best friend of their daughter’s ex-boyfriend. Sharon’s parents had always been polite, especially about the hardest subjects. Sharon supposed that was only natural. Her mother had grown up with an older sister whose entire life was secrets and espionage, and had given birth to a daughter who lived the same way. She’d learned not to ask the wrong questions. Somewhere along the line, Sharon’s father must have picked up the talent through osmosis.
They talked about the weather, and college football, and the election. They talked about the turkey, and the Macy’s parade, and just how delicious Mrs. Carter’s candied yams were. Words filled the conversation, words of every shape and size, but more conspicuous were the absences of certain words. Words like resurrection and gay and Where have you been for the past year?.
By the end of the evening, as Sharon was getting ready to set her things in her old bedroom, the night’s accumulated urge to scream began to well up inside her. All the unspoken words were a weight upon her, the weight of her parents’ worry and confusion. She’d avoided them for so long, and she didn’t know if she could ever be candid with them again. They’d missed so much, so much she could never comfortably explain. Family had become one more casualty of what the past year had wrought.
And yet, as Sharon kissed Sam goodnight before he headed for the couch (Sharon’s parents were nothing if not concerned with propriety), she couldn’t help feeling thankful for what the last year had gained her: a friendship proven through the toughest of circumstances, and a relationship not based on a lie. Life wasn’t perfect, but on this weekend of thankfulness, it felt good to recognize that she did, in fact, have something good.
She could wait on everything else.
What words would you like to see added to/removed from common use?
The day after Thanksgiving, Sharon visited her parents for the first time since before she’d been brainwashed.
She’d had Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday, with Sam, at a community Thanksgiving event in Harlem. Sam had helped to organize it, and Sharon had surprised herself with how much she enjoyed the chance to be there. Since she’d joined the Birds of Prey, Sharon had begun feeling useful again, but being with Sam in his work reminded her of just how many other things, outside of her usual experience, could make a person feel needed and productive.
But now it was the weekend, and Sharon’s parents had called several times, dancing around the subject of Thanksgiving and how long it had been since they’d seen their little girl. So Sharon talked to Sam, and, by Saturday morning, they were hopping on a train for the five-hour ride to Richmond.
The experience was largely uneventful. Sharon’s parents enjoyed Sam; she could tell that right from the start. They’d met him before, of course, much earlier in all of their careers, and they’d liked him then. Sharon hadn’t expected anything less. They didn’t blink at the color of his skin, or his known resistance to the SHRA, or the fact that he was the best friend of their daughter’s ex-boyfriend. Sharon’s parents had always been polite, especially about the hardest subjects. Sharon supposed that was only natural. Her mother had grown up with an older sister whose entire life was secrets and espionage, and had given birth to a daughter who lived the same way. She’d learned not to ask the wrong questions. Somewhere along the line, Sharon’s father must have picked up the talent through osmosis.
They talked about the weather, and college football, and the election. They talked about the turkey, and the Macy’s parade, and just how delicious Mrs. Carter’s candied yams were. Words filled the conversation, words of every shape and size, but more conspicuous were the absences of certain words. Words like resurrection and gay and Where have you been for the past year?.
By the end of the evening, as Sharon was getting ready to set her things in her old bedroom, the night’s accumulated urge to scream began to well up inside her. All the unspoken words were a weight upon her, the weight of her parents’ worry and confusion. She’d avoided them for so long, and she didn’t know if she could ever be candid with them again. They’d missed so much, so much she could never comfortably explain. Family had become one more casualty of what the past year had wrought.
And yet, as Sharon kissed Sam goodnight before he headed for the couch (Sharon’s parents were nothing if not concerned with propriety), she couldn’t help feeling thankful for what the last year had gained her: a friendship proven through the toughest of circumstances, and a relationship not based on a lie. Life wasn’t perfect, but on this weekend of thankfulness, it felt good to recognize that she did, in fact, have something good.
She could wait on everything else.