It's March, and March is for slicing. Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices!
As we walk along the sidewalk, I almost step on a butterfly-- no a moth-- lifting and lowering its wings as if it is breathing. It's bright-- orange with yellow spots-- and it's a welcome sight on this far from ordinary early March afternoon in Chicago.
I pause and poke around the home screen for my camera. Try as my daughters might, they have not made the camera availability a reflex for me. It remains a process. Maybe it's the post-50, set-in-my-ways syndrome, although I try to learn new things.
Camera ready, I squat down toward the moth, already envisioning the glorious image that could accompany my slice.
"What are you doing?" Larkin asks, laughing at the shadow I'm casting on my subject.
The people behind me swerve to avoid me, and they, too, admire the moth once they realize what I am admiring. I don't know if it's my shadow, their footsteps, or the lure of flying that motivates the moth to lift off before I can press the button.
"Where is it?" Larkin asks.
I point to the moth on the other side of a locked gate, out of the reach of my camera.
"In my memory," I reply.
Still a good slice, we both agree.
Now, it is captured in words! So many well-crafted phrases here, like "post-50, set-in-my-ways syndrome" and "people behind me swerve". Your use of dialogue and dashes also make the slice shine! Still a great slice, without an accompanying image!
ReplyDeletePerfect slice! The lifting and lowering, pause and poke - great alliteration and then your shadow. Now I also want to know more about you and Larkin in Chicago!
ReplyDeleteSometimes I think I take took many photos, when I should just be savoring the moment. Those moments are fleeting, just like your moth.
ReplyDelete"In my memory"--love that! And the fumbling for the Camera--I'm joining you in the post-50 never getting quite smooth with the home screen.
ReplyDelete2 in the morning?? Mother!! To all those reading, I promise us daughters are nice in our trainings, as I constantly try to imagine myself in my post-50 set-in-my-ways era.
ReplyDeleteThe above was also Clare
ReplyDeleteI knew exactly who the commenter was! xoxo
DeleteI chuckled. That is me every time I try to take a picture of something in the moment, and I am always a bit too late
ReplyDeleteI feel like that happens so often; you caught the feeling of those fleeting moments so well. I think that there is something to be said about just being in the moment...but now, after writing it, you will most like remember it more!
ReplyDeleteI've had this happen to me, too! You grab your phone to snap that perfect shot so you'll remember the thing, only to have the subject move out of the way too quickly or the moment has passed by the time the shutter captures the shot. At least you have your memory, as you say! :)
ReplyDelete