blOgbuefi

writing to know, knowing thru being, being for writing... this is me, writing about the one thing i know, which is myself... and even that is sometimes a mystery...

Friday, September 09, 2005

Labor Day

here's a short story for a change. i am compiling short stories i've written about home and/or my parents, and will hopefully be posting more in the future. let me know what you think...
love,
steph


It's a warm Friday evening.

The a.c. is pumping through the vents in my parents' car.

My mom turns to me. She says, "Steph..."

My Mom always does this. She'll say my name and pause... She likes to drag it out as long as she can, letting the tension between us build. Like pulling a rubber band, slowly, and waiting for it to snap back on you.

She likes torturing me. She knows how much I hate lack of continuity in conversation.

"Steph... I think..."

Again with the pause.

"I think the time for America is over."

I automatically smirk and am filled with the desire to oppose everything she said and is about to say.

I knew what was coming next. The memory of the following words was all too familiar, and I could guess the next statement's timing and arrival in the same way a music afficianado knows the order of songs, the length of pauses, the rises and falls in music on a favorite CD, simply from listening to it multiple times on constant repeat.

"Steph," she says, "You should do something with your Chinese history."

In that moment I wonder, how much of what she says is true? How much am I willing to admit to myself? And how much will I deny and contest what I know to be true, solely in order to defy my mother?

It's a warm Friday evening.

I'm in the back of my parents' car, going home.

2 Comments:

  • At 10:14 AM, September 11, 2005, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    i like this a lot! but i feel like you left me hanging :(
    ~chelsea

     
  • At 11:45 AM, September 11, 2005, Blogger Ogbuefi Stephi said…

    thanks!
    yeah, i guess i just couldn't think of a good way to end it... so i just... did.
    i dunno.
    some things i write end too abruptly, but i think it's mostly because i'm still living it, in a way, so they shouldn't end, but continue living.
    you know?

     

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