BA Soundtrack Day 4: She Cries Your Name
*waves to the one person who is reading this* Hi!!
It's day 4, can you believe it? Today's song is "She Cries Your Name" by Beth Orton. (Note: video has nothing to do with the song. I couldn't find a static pic for this one, so instead I'm using one w/ pics of Russell Crowe from Gladiator.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=deDuVP...
Excerpt:
She found her father in the living room with a handful of RCA cables and an instruction manual. He looked like he was about to wire up a bomb, not an entertainment system. “Daddy.…” He looked at her with the expression of a man undeterred from his mission, so she left him alone.
“Momma?” Kelly’s mother was in the laundry room, having somehow found something to wash.
“Just doing your sheets, dear.”
“I was thinking, you know, you and Daddy have done so much these past months. I think you should have a date night.”
“Oh, we couldn’t leave you.”
“Daddy will have the television hooked up before long. I’ll watch DVDs.... and I could use some me time.”
Her mother squeezed Kelly's shoulders in the new familiar-unfamiliar way. “I bet you could. All right, Daddy and I will get out of your hair this evening.” She pulled Kelly forward and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t do anything crazy, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The apartment had two bedrooms, both huge. Kelly hadn’t been sure why she needed two bedrooms until it became clear her parents would be staying for a time. Calls arrived from various other family members claiming a stake in the room once they left. “We don’t want you staying that big city alone, sweetie,” Aunt Rosie had said, echoing the sentiment of every other relative. Each bedroom had a private bath, plus there was an unattached half bath off the hallway between the living room and an as-yet-undesignated room, which her mother said could be a nursery until she caught the look off Kelly’s father and amended it to ‘office’. Kelly planned to turn it into a yoga and meditation space.
The apartment was a ten-minute drive from the prison, though in D.C. traffic it was more like an hour. They hadn’t figured in traffic time when they bought it. It was more about the location. Kelly's safety was paramount, her parents had decided.
If living arrangements were up to Kelly, she’d pitch a tent on CTF’s front lot.
She needed to rethink that ‘not sentimental’ thing.
Alone in the apartment, she didn’t cry. She didn’t do anything. She sat on the couch. Didn’t turn on the television. The apartment had sounds she had never noticed: humming and clicking and distant whirring. She listened to them. They sounded far away and made the place seem larger. The furniture had come with the apartment. There were no marks of use on it, but it had a history. Probably nothing special: chatting with guests on the couch, or a dog vomiting on the rug, or a cat sleeping in the rocking chair.
Maybe she should get a cat. That might be nice. Someone small and warm. Something, she corrected herself.
Building Arcadia
It's day 4, can you believe it? Today's song is "She Cries Your Name" by Beth Orton. (Note: video has nothing to do with the song. I couldn't find a static pic for this one, so instead I'm using one w/ pics of Russell Crowe from Gladiator.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=deDuVP...
Excerpt:
She found her father in the living room with a handful of RCA cables and an instruction manual. He looked like he was about to wire up a bomb, not an entertainment system. “Daddy.…” He looked at her with the expression of a man undeterred from his mission, so she left him alone.
“Momma?” Kelly’s mother was in the laundry room, having somehow found something to wash.
“Just doing your sheets, dear.”
“I was thinking, you know, you and Daddy have done so much these past months. I think you should have a date night.”
“Oh, we couldn’t leave you.”
“Daddy will have the television hooked up before long. I’ll watch DVDs.... and I could use some me time.”
Her mother squeezed Kelly's shoulders in the new familiar-unfamiliar way. “I bet you could. All right, Daddy and I will get out of your hair this evening.” She pulled Kelly forward and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t do anything crazy, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The apartment had two bedrooms, both huge. Kelly hadn’t been sure why she needed two bedrooms until it became clear her parents would be staying for a time. Calls arrived from various other family members claiming a stake in the room once they left. “We don’t want you staying that big city alone, sweetie,” Aunt Rosie had said, echoing the sentiment of every other relative. Each bedroom had a private bath, plus there was an unattached half bath off the hallway between the living room and an as-yet-undesignated room, which her mother said could be a nursery until she caught the look off Kelly’s father and amended it to ‘office’. Kelly planned to turn it into a yoga and meditation space.
The apartment was a ten-minute drive from the prison, though in D.C. traffic it was more like an hour. They hadn’t figured in traffic time when they bought it. It was more about the location. Kelly's safety was paramount, her parents had decided.
If living arrangements were up to Kelly, she’d pitch a tent on CTF’s front lot.
She needed to rethink that ‘not sentimental’ thing.
Alone in the apartment, she didn’t cry. She didn’t do anything. She sat on the couch. Didn’t turn on the television. The apartment had sounds she had never noticed: humming and clicking and distant whirring. She listened to them. They sounded far away and made the place seem larger. The furniture had come with the apartment. There were no marks of use on it, but it had a history. Probably nothing special: chatting with guests on the couch, or a dog vomiting on the rug, or a cat sleeping in the rocking chair.
Maybe she should get a cat. That might be nice. Someone small and warm. Something, she corrected herself.
Building Arcadia
No comments have been added yet.
