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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Mouths
Tried
Moving
Beautiful
Caterpillar
Like
Caterpillars
Reached
Catch
Mouth

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The land wants you here. I want you here, you called. Don't you care about that at all?
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How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
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This be OK?' I asked, innocently. 'You want me to have no skin left?' You rolled your eyes. Actually, don't answer that one.
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There were tiny stars behind my eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars.
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And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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You looked at me, your eyes huge. You we're like a dog then, waiting for me to throw you a bone . . . waiting for something I could never give you.
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I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.
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It happened like this. I was stolen from an airport. Taken from everything I knew, everything I was used to. Taken to sand and heat, dirt and danger. And he expected me to love him. This is my story. A letter from nowhere.
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The sand stretched out gray and ghostlike and illuminated, a column of light leading forward. It was like something a dead person would see, a tunnel leading toward heaven.
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I want you to see that the person I glimpsed running beside the camel, running to save my life, is the person you can choose to be.
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In a moment, when I'm ready, I will turn off this computer and that will be it. This letter will be finished. A part of me doesn't want to stop writing to you, but I need to. For both of us.
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If there'd been an astronaut on the moon right then, I'm sure I could have seen him. Perhaps he could have looked down and seen me too... the only one who could.
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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But what else can I do, other than to plead with you like this? Other than to write down my story, our story, to show you that what you've done . . . to make you realize that what you did wasn't fair, wasn't right.
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You smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.
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You're right, he's a killer, you said. A rooster with some serious issues.
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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
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I chased money, pretended to be someone else to get it. It got easier the longer I did it... but that's the trap, see? When the deadness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
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