
25 Staples – by Ashley Lily Scarlett
A collaboration …
Image by Ashley Lily Scarlett who posts here on Hijacked Amygdala, and also blogs at Syncopated Eyeball, Between Scarlett and Guest, and strata of the self.
Words by me. Oh, and my photographs can be found at One Possible Reflection if you’re interested.
Enjoy.
When I was twelve, Dad’s work took me from our small town home in Nevada, to the city of Detroit. We rented a rundown house just off 8 Mile Road, neglected and dirty, but Dad said it was cheap. The backyard was huge with a big oak tree in one corner, off of which hung a double-width swing suspended on thick ropes. I sat on that swing, alone, most days.
When I was thirteen, as a gawky boy from the dust of Mojave, I found it impossible to make friends. Kids used to either beat on me or ignore me. Then Macie moved in next door with her Mom and Dad. She was even more weird than me. Our parents got on well, so she and I spent the summer together in shared silence. We soon became girlfriend and boyfriend, but I never told her that we were. We sat on that swing together, most days.
It was around my fourteenth birthday when Macie disappeared. Her parents were still at the house, but Macie was no longer around. My Mom and Dad would speak about her in hushed tones. When I asked after her all I got told was that she had gone away for a while. Macie came back three months later with hair shaved and metal in her head.
As we sat on the swing, I stared at the side of her head. Then I asked her what happened:
She told me, “I got myself a summer job in the zipper factory. I fell into the biggest machine in the place, and when I came out I looked like a jacket.”
I laugh-snorted. She looked at me, sad.
“You are teasing me. Tell me the truth,” I begged.
“OK. You got me. I am an Alien in a human skin-suit, and this zip is how I get in and out.”
This time she smiled. I could tell it hurt her to smile, and not a physical pain.
“That’s silly,” I exclaimed. “Tell me the truth.”
She stopped the swing and climbed off.
“I don’t remember. They told me I stepped out in front of a bus.”
I stared at the side of Macie’s head. The ladder of staples glinted in the sun, a shallow arc from just behind her temple to the top of her ear.
“Stepped out? By accident or did you do it on purpose?”
She turned to face me.
“I don’t remember.”
Thanks, Andy. I love what you’ve done with my prompt. I especially like the ambiguity of Masie’s final answer. Not just that she doesn’t remember (doesn’t she?) but also that she is indirectly admitting that a jump could well be possible.
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Thanks. It’s a great image. No idea what it’s origins are, but a fantastic prompt.
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Thank you.
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The other flip on the final line is that (maybe) it was an accident, but now she has the thought of a suicide planted in her mind, that she acted on purpose.
A future self-fulfilling prophesy …?
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Interesting, I hadn’t thought of that.
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Or I’m talking shit.
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Haha!
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excellent ending.
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Thank you.
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Reblogged this on One Possible Reflection.
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But on another level, so many ideas wanted to escape and having to be locked firmly back in. Brilliantly shot.
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Ah, nice take. Yes, it is a brilliant shot, isn’t it.
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I agree, a very cool interpretation. And thanks for the compliment, Chris.
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Hmmm, what a question at the end. Did she mean to, or was it an accident. All the same poor girl. Vanity and beauty is important to women, even just other women if you don’t care yourself, so having staples or stitches in the side of her head would suck. Not to mention, the scarring. Well written Andy. Interesting piece.
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Thank you. It was an interesting prompt.
(p.s. Why don’t not seem to be following you …)
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I see you are now 🙂 Happy to have you Andy. I enjoy your writing.
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Gold is marvellous with white…elegant without being shocking! Thanks Cecilia for your nice wishes! I truly had a nice time in BCN!And beacause I'm still in my Spanish mob.a.d.oesos!!!V.le
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What a great idea, I actually live here in New Zealand in the Bay of Plenty, surrounded by orchards of kiwifruit and orchards of Avocados. It is glorious to have this beautiful seasonal fruit available mostly free for us locals.
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Wow, I felt my heart clutch at the last line. Excellent pacing.
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It’s an amazing photograph and I thought the clipped and slightly morbid nature of the story was spot on.
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Thank you, Babe. I really like Andy’s interpretation too.
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Ha! Silly me! I just noticed there are only 21 staples. 🙂
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Nobody else noticed. So whatever you do, don’t post a message on WP pointing it out. And for fucks sake, don’t mention the beard.
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Haha!
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it’s astounding the power of suggestion. i was so caught up in your story i missed the beard. haha!
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Wow. What a huge step backwards. What is with the HUGE google and tiny Most Visited previews? And losing &q;eouRectntly Closed" and "Other Devices"? Am I missing something?
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Me too! I also missed the beard on account of the story. Well written. Maybe Ashley will let us know who the real person is and what really, I mean Really Happened?
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