March 23, 2003

By the Fireside

I'm very cold right now, curled up on the cot with white sheets. My black full-length skirt clings to my body and my yellow sweeter is supposed to keep me warm, but it doesn't. I feel the motion of my jaw as I chew on the "radioactive" gum as Steph calls it. She and Sandra share the king size bed. Steph is reading her manga and Sandra's dozing off. Outside are the sounds of the city that never sleeps.

Yet I can still feel the warmth of the blazing fire I had lay in front of last Sunday, the burning sensation and crackling. My hair was being toyed with, lightly combed by my Aunt Nancy's fingers. My family was at her and Uncle David's house. She'd made a chicken dinner and it was delicious. I'd made myself useful as I always try to do. My reward was a homemade cake that was worth the clearing of the table a hundred times over, and a cup of tea.

The adults talked about the old days, my sister stretched out on the wooden floor in front of the fire to grow, and my fluffy cousins lay under the low coffee table. Aunt Nancy sat on a low footstool like thingy, her jeans were soft and my head needed a pillow. I curled myself up and put my head on her lap. The fire warmed my cheeks and sent me off into a dream like state.

I love spending time with my Aunt Nancy. She's like my godmother, but not really. She's beautiful and has a similar look to Princess Diana, but darker in hair color. Nancy always makes good food and is always interested in what's going on. I hadn't seen her in over a year and so I was happy!

However, as I fell under the influence of the heat I slowly started to dream. It was no longer Aunt Nancy combing my hair, but Her. It was just She and I, like it will never be. Me drifting off to sleep, protected, and loved. She'd say 'I love you,' and let me fall asleep there. She'd keep an eye on me as I peacefully slept like a baby and when I'd wake she'd hug me close and keep me safe from the rest of the world.

I n a moment everything was back. I was lying near the fire, Aunt Nancy was combing my hair, and there was a conversation going on. I sighed; it will always be wishful thinking. That could, would never happen in this world. My parents said it was time to leave and we went into the cold winter evening.

I was cold again, just like I am now, just like I always am, and all I have are the memories of the warm fire.