Escolar aka Walu
9 years ago
No, my heart didn’t break then and still hasn’t. It maybe just chipped a little, the kind of splinter that flows into the bloodstream to cause covert damage along its path. My mother warned me about splinters, but I never listened. Remove it, she’d say while wielding a sterilized sewing needle above my skin, or deal with infection.
Earl’s splinter is that of memory. Memory, which fills in that which we don’t currently see. Memory, which takes the exact shape of our desire, the chronology that charts our purpose.
I wasn’t even experienced enough to be a Girl Scout. I was a Brownie with a driver’s license.
An entirely other life, but in reality how much? The Beatles once sang: The further one travels/the less one knows. Old Ringo and friends were onto something.