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Synthetic Orange
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Cohen Edenfield
September 18, 2007
Peter Christopher
Yellow Sulfur
We’re riding back from the funeral and my mother tells a story, a short one, about how my grandfather used to love those little yellow butterflies.
“He used to love the little yellow butterflies, you know, those ones. He said they’d ride the thermals all the way to Spain.” Thermals are air currents, big long tunnels of hot air that birds and, I guess, butterflies, soar on. It’s why you rarely see an eagle flapping its wings.
My father says, “Those are called Yellow Sulfurs.”
“What an ugly name for a butterfly,” I say.
At the visitation we, the immediate family, stood in a line that started with me and ended with my grandmother sitting on a chair that was missing an arm so people could hug her. Then, of course, there’s his coffin (casket, whatever). Most of the people didn’t know me, and they complimented my suit and asked me if I played football. I whispered to my cousin that the whole thing’s a little macabre.
“Well, no shit,” he said.
The grandchildren and sons-in-law, we who have some distance from him, whispered that he doesn’t look natural. What we meant is that his skin didn’t sag and his eyes weren’t half-open and rheumy and you couldn’t smell vodka on him. The casket is long—he looks tall in death.
At my grandmother’s, after the funeral, everyone gets pretty drunk. I change out of my suit and feel a little more vulnerable, like I had been wearing armor. I have several cokes while everyone else has beer, so I feel like I’m moving at a different speed than the rest of the party.
People talk about quitting smoking as liquor arrives, courtesy of my father and uncle’s pilgrimage to the county line. The party moves into a more mellow state and I move from group to group until I feel I can gracefully make my exit.
Before I go I feel I have to talk to my mother. She tries to give me money, which I initially refuse and eventually accept.
“Take it, go to a movie,” she says.
“I don’t really feel like it,” I say, half out the door.
“You love movies,” she says. “Go see that Russell Crowe one, 3:10 to Yuma.”
“I was going to see that with Dad.” People are watching, now.
“He’ll be too busy. Go on, see it.”
“Alright, maybe I will. Yeah, I’ll do that. I love you, mom.” I lean over and hug her, and I’m reminded of my grandmother at the visitation.
“I put a letter in with him,” she says.
“With dad?” I say, but I know what she means.
“No, with your grandfather.”
“That’s cool. What did it say? I mean, wait, sorry, you don’t…”
“It said ‘the yellow butterflies have gone to Spain’”.
“That’s great, mom,” and other people echo me. I hug her again and leave the party. As I’m walking to my car I look for a yellow butterfly, but it’s dark.
hey satan...: thinkgeek amazon My post |
I don't know what it is
yes I do
what is
...Huh
I am not posting it
coward
SE++ Map Steam
you actually did it
- an obligation, responsibility, or promise that restricts freedom of action
did what I have a shitload of those and more in my photobucket from ages ago
psh tssh psh tshh
Well. So THAT'S what it was.
I mean, where are the leadership skills? The organization and the argumentative abilities you need just haven't manifested themselves in any way *I* can see, at least
I need to know where you stand on the ISSUES. Will you support longer recess periods? Cheaper chocolate milk at the cafeteria? Or are you one of those guys who panders to the masses through outrageous pipe-dreams; free candy for everyone and optional P.E. classes may appeal to the average person- they may even get you elected- but I'm tired of empty promises.
you would have tons of ass shots in your photobucket
you whore
kpop appreciation station i also like to tweet some
cock shots too
99% of se has seen them
you're that one girl in high school who got pictures of herself having sex spread around the entire school
except I'm a dude so
well still yes but it's a little different
So are bongi and graves
What a surprise!
I hope it slips completely from your mind
And I hope it stays up long enough for the next generation to find
And I hope that it embarrasses your children
I hope their bratty friends all forward it around
And I hope that you forget your password
So you cannot take it down
edit: I love the file name
GoFund The Portland Trans Pride March, or Show It To People, or Else!
yes but we all know what type of girls they are
Goddamn Sufjan Stevens has some long song titles
maybe you shouldn't do that
don't fret