July 21, 2002
The Refrigerator Faerie
Today is one of those days that are so hot they make you want to take up permanent residence inside the refrigerator. I suppose that most of you will not understand, as your parents aren't insane and have the delusion that air conditioning is a luxury as opposed to a necessity for human survival.
At least for mine.
Anyway. Yeah. I wonder if I could remove the crisper drawers and discard all the contents of the lower portion of the fridge...?
Mom might not mind. She is asleep. They might not even notice my abscence. I might be kind of handy, stuck in there like that.
"Jill, pass us a soda, if you would..."
"O, do we have any mustard?"
"You wouldn't mind scrubbing up a bit in there, would you? You have access to those corners that are just so hard to reach..."
I went for a swim, which was a total, no pun intended, flop. The pool water is lukewarm, at best, and I somehow managed to feel clammy even when I was in the water. I also had no luck sitting astride one of the pool floats and reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire for the third time. I was too paranoid that I'd drop the damn thing in the water. It's a library book. I ruined plenty of those in my youth, there's no need to pick up the old habit. I have plenty of new ones to occupy me.
And the whole time I was in the pool I kept hearing music coming from the woods above/behind our house. I got out twice, once to go and make sure the car was turned off and the other to venture a little ways into the woods to discern if that was the actual direction of the sound.
And it was. Seven year old me, of course, imagined immediately visions of fairy folk. I considered breaking up their revelry, I entertained the idea of allowing myself to be taken under the hill to the kingdom of the fae.
And then I slapped myself in the face and remembered that no, I am not seven, but nearly twenty. Strange. I'd forgotten for a moment there.
I'm not going to mention that I eventually did dash out of the pool, into the house, and was halfway into suitable clothing for hiking before I stopped myself. So you didn't hear that from me.
But really. I think a small part of me will always have notions of magic and an otherworld that, while I do not belong to it, must certainly exist. At night I peer out of my window to see lightning bugs dancing on the lawn, and conjure instead delicate, glowing pixies. When I am all alone at home I will wander the farm with Sadie at my heels, and beneath my feet a path will spring and I am on the run, and there are eyes in the bushes and ears in the clouds.
The only thing assuring me my age right now is my extensive vocabulary, no?
I don't want to be normal. I just want to be right.
astera at 7:02 p.m.