LexandriaJade

(I have succumbed to the world of Twitter, I admit it.)

The point is, vote for Tom Felton and bring him back up from 3rd. Also, Matt Lewis, James Phelps and Oliver Phelps. I'm also a fan of Cuzzy.

http://tweeterwall.mallplace.com/tw/worldwide/elite-mr-twitter-universe

Pimping my own other-blog:
http://jazz-kate.blogspot.com/






Of course I'm shameless, what do you expect?

The editor of the youth newspaper I write for just assigned me to interview the Vancouver band Marianas Trench Friday or Saturday. They're rather well known and I'm feeling a bit intimidated at the moment. Will post the interview if I'm allowed.

I've begun playing the Across the Universe version of the Beatles song 'Why Don't We Do It In The Yard?' and imagining Bellatrix Lestrange singing.

Really. I now have six (3 per ear), and the last ones were only a few weeks ago, but I already want more. I'm going for another 3 pairs and a nose piercing in the next two years or so.

And I've got a bit of a thing for tongue piercings... but I go back and forth about wanting one. I wouldn't want one until post-high school anyway. But I'm not going to commit until I stop wavering too. Probably mid-20s, if it happens. I'm not really wavering about whether I want one or not - more like I've heard the horror stories and want to be able to talk for the rest of my life. So.

Also, tattoos are sort of pretty - especially model Cole Mohr's 'April May June':



I love his tattoo. Another case of wouldn't want it until I'm older though. Black and white, not too huge or noticeable. And not a lower-back butterfly.

I was just recommending some books for a friend and thought 'hey, maybe someone else might find this interesting...'

So here's a short rec list (copied from facebook and directed at one person, thus lacking some kinds of good books):

COMMENT 1:
Shit... I just deleted my comment. Well, I'll re-type the book recommendations. :P

Gordon Korman is a kids author I loved in grade six/seven (and still do, but read less). Some of his stuff includes KIDNAPPED and ON THE RUN. And ISLAND, DIVE, and EVEREST. And others like BORN TO ROCK, WHO IS BUGS POTTER?, SCHOOLED... I have like 20 or 30 of his books. :P

I doubt I need to say, but HARRY POTTER obviously. And I'm trying to read LORD OF THE RINGS for the first time, which is so far good but tedious. Have you read it?

Hmm, now I'm trying to think of good books. Well, TWILIGHT, ETC. of course. Have you read them. I bought them about two years ago, pre-hype, and just re-read. Amazing.

Anything by Tamora Peirce is good. Particularly the SONG OF THE LIONESS quartet, PROTECTOR OF THE SMALL quartet, and the CIRCLE OF MAGIC quartet. Also, the first book in the BEKA COOPER series, because I haven't read the second yet.

Um... the post is too long, so I'll start another. :P


COMMENT 2:
Okay, continuing. Susan Juby's series ALICE, I THINK is excellent. Especially the first one.

The entire BLOODY JACK series, some of which I own. Pirate stories. I've read five, there are six published and a seventh on the way. Long and great

By Holly Black, a trio: TITHE, VALIANT, and IRONSIDE. She also co-authored Spiderwick, but I haven't read that.

Libba Bray wrote A GREAT AND TERRIBLE BEAUTY, REBEL ANGELS, and THE SWEET FAR THING. I've not finished the entire series: I've either gotten half way through the second or the third, but I don't remember. [I jut discovered that Libba Bray and Holly Black are friends.]

LULLABIES FOR LITTLE CRIMINALS, by Heather O'Neill, is amazing and very heavy. You will cry. :P

And in terms of none-fiction I love anything by Lynne Truss or Bill Bryson. Mostly it's stuff about manners, writing stuff, and travel.

Hmm... I'm stuck. I know I've got more to suggest, but most of my books at at my other house, so I can't just go look at my book shelf.

And...

Drink four glasses of london every day.
Give up james.
Connect with my inner feist.
Give up reading.
Become a better fanfiction.
Take evening classes in guitar.

Mmm, London.

Top Ten Reasons Why Gay Marriage Is Wrong:
1) Being gay is not natural. Real Canadians always reject unnatural things like eyeglasses, polyester, and air conditioning.
2) Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
3)Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behaviour. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and
can sign a marriage contract.
4) Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can't marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.
5) Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed; the sanctity of Brittany Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.
6) Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn't be allowed to marry because our orphanages aren't full yet, and the world needs more children.
7) Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
8) Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That's why we have only one religion in Canada.
9) Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.
10) Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven't adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans

Please repost this if you are for gay marriage.

Alrighty - 11 beautiful women, and _ beautiful men. (Originally it was going to be ten of each... but that didn't work out.)



Kate Moss



Agyness Deyn, model.



Lara Jade Cotton, photographer. (And occasional model). Amazing. larajade.com



Yulia Volkova (brunette) and Lena Katina (redhead). The Russian singing duet TATU.



Rihanna, singer.



Keira Knightley, actress. Adore her.



Kirsten Dunst, actress. I've always liked her not-perfectly-straight teeth.



Helena Bonham Carter, actress. Need I say more?



Anna Friel, actress. Lead female in the TV show Pushing Daisies. (Amazing show)

My favorite parts:

"It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled, Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.

"We are, and always will be, the United States of America."

and:

"Sasha and Malia I love you both more than you can imagine. And you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the new White House."

and, especially:

"...grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy..."

Genius.

Wow! I was looking at old entries and realized I completely disappeared for the entire summer.

Well, this summer my dad decided to take me to London for my birthday. Um, what? Yes, LONDON. Which I'm a bit obsessed with; I blame Harry Potter. But I don't speak with a false British accent! Promise. So it was amazing, and I'm running away as soon as possible. I plan to marry a pretty, rich, British boy and be all artsy and awesome. We'll see how that pans out.

And I did a shitload of other stuff this summer as well. I was barely home. I got my helix pierced on both sides in Seattle... went to an awesome two week arts camp again. A lot of sailing. Lots of family-visiting.

But, fuck, London. I saw Billy Eliot on the West End. Jack Johnson was playing in Hyde Park the night before my birthday and I could hear him from my hotel, but I went to Chicago that night instead. KT Tunstall was playing the night I got there, also in Hyde Park. Me and my dad and my uncle were walking in Hyde Park that night and my dad's like 'That sounds like Sting', and than a few days later we found out that it was, in fact, Sting. Pete Doherty, formerly of the Libertines, was playing a few days after I left. I went to the London Zoo, where they filmed part of PS (Harry Potter), and to Platform 9 3/4 at Kings Cross. I love that I can go into pubs, despite being 15. Oh! The Pride Parade happened to be the one Saturday we had a full day there. I haven't watched a Pride Parade in so long, because I'm usually in the Vancouver one. Very fun. And of course I went to the Tate Modern, the British Museum, the Design Museum, tours, the Tower of London, and everywhere else I possibly could in a week. I was also there on Canada day, which was fun. :P And I LOVE the tube. Even though we have the SkyTrain in Vancouver. Guh.

( Fabulous Pictures )

Ah! My sister is having her second birthday party (the one for school friends rather than the one for Island friends) and I'm going insane. They're all screaming and shrieking outside my room.

But, more importantly, I have a filing cabinet! I've always wanted one. It's blue, and it has two drawers and a lock. It's empty though, because /i can't find anything to put in it right now...

Also, I don't think I've ever spelled the word 'drawers' before today. I couldn't remember how to spell it at first.

Back to the filing cabinet, I went to Staples today. I love Staples. It hovers around Chapters and Starbucks on the 'my favorite chain' scale. I love stationary, and furniture, and electronics. Staples is a haven for obsessive organizers and 'married-to-work' type people. Not that I'm the second, and I certainly don't claim to be organized. You can obsessively organize without ever becoming organized.

I don't remember - is 'organised' the Canadian spelling? Because the spell check on my computer says it's 'organized', but I think it's American, and I don't know how to change it.

And I hate the 'mood' thingy (with the bouncing stars) because every time I try to use it and figure out how I'm feeling I notice how permanently tired I am... :( So I've said cheerful today, just to be rebellious.

Have I mentioned my new dog? I don't think so. Maybe. My dad found a puppy a few weeks ago. And I named her Libertine, after the band. But everyone calls her Libby, which is okay, but not as rockstar-esque. She is adorable. I'll post a picture as son as I get some on my computer. Half black lab, half something smaller. Just barely 3 months.

Funny icon quote of the week: 'Straight? So's spaghetti 'till you heat it up!' Am I supposed to find that funny? I don't know. :)

I was sorting through old Word Docs today (avoiding homework) and came across one about the parallel between Kelly Clarkson's 'Behind These Hazel Eyes' and Remus Lupin situation after Halloween 81'. I thought it was a near perfect match. I might have tweaked a few lines, I don't really remember.

( Lyrics )( Lyrics )


Also, my computer is slowly dying. :(

EDIT: And lj-cuts aren't working for me today, so you have a choice of lyrics or lyrics. I recommend the later.

{Up the Albion to Arcadia!}

 

Music When the Lights Go Out

by The Libertines

album: The Libertines, released 30 August, 2004. Second and last album.

 

Most fans know at least two things about the Libertines: that former The Clash member Mick Jones produces them and that lead singer Pete Doherty has had “difficulties” with the police, and with drugs, in a very high-profile way.

 

Rhythm

I’ve heard the rhythm section of The Libertines described as hyperactive, but in this song Gary Powell reigns himself and Doherty in, keeping the song from speeding up with fury, or slowing down in despair. A metaphor that I could apply to Powell’s drumming in Music When the Lights Go Out might reference babysitting, or fenced lanes, or something of that sort. The drums begin when Doherty first says ‘I no longer hear the music’, and continue until after he stops singing. The rhythm stays very much the same throughout the better part of the song.

 

Melody

‘I believe in melody and hearts and minds.’ Barât, fellow Libertines frontman says indignantly during an argument. Doherty smiles: ‘Good, just testing.’ Barât and Doherty have a quiet, dry, witty, and crude way of speaking, elegant and confusing with archaic slang and obscure references galore. This comes out in their music, making it all the more interesting and contradictory. Music When the Lights Go Out is at once melodious and discordant, saccharine and bitterly heartbreaking. The melody is carried mainly by bare-bones acoustic and the occasional tragically off-hand ‘do-do-do-do-do’ strummed on an electric guitar. Doherty’s evocative vocals are not conventionally melodic, sometimes straying near off-pitch and braying, or knackered and slurred. But they are always far from flat and docile; the small inflections in his voice are what make this song such an absolutely wicked listen.

 

Expression

I think that the expression in this song is amazing: even after listening to in constantly I still tear up half the time. The first ten or so times I heard this song it made be shiver. Around the time that this song was recorded relations between frontmen Doherty and Barât, as well as between Doherty and his then-girlfriend Kate Moss, were strained. Doherty was missing shows and fighting with band members. He was arrested many times for drug and weapon possession as well as burgling Barât’s flat. Doherty was told several times that he couldn’t play with the band until he cleaned up his act, and Moss threatened more than once to break up with him if he continued to do drugs like cocaine and heroin (which she eventually did). I think that you can hear some of Doherty’s desperation to acquiesce with their pleas, as well as his sadness that his relationships with the people who used to be closest to him have deteriorated so much. The fast section in the middle of the song always makes me think that he’s getting angry, and maybe fighting, but then it slows down just before the end of the song, like maybe he’s giving up again. The song is compelling and voyeuristic,

 

Harmony

 

 

Form

This song could be described as a British garage-rock slow ballad, if you’re being fastidious and long-winded. But still, ‘slow’ and ‘ballad’ are enough to show that this song is different from much of The Libertines music, animalistic wail at the beginning of ‘Up The Bracket’ aside.

 

 

 

Lyrics

Well is it cruel or kind
Not to speak my mind
And to lie to you
Rather than hurt you
Well, I'll confess all of my sins
After several large gins
But still I'll hide from you
And hide what's inside from you

And alarm bells ring
When you say your heart still sings
When you're with me
Oh darling, please forgive me

But I no longer hear the music
Oh no no no no no

And all the memories of the pubs
And the clubs and the drugs and the tubs
We shared together
Will stay with me forever

But all the highs and the lows
And the tos and the fros
They left me dizzy
Oh darling, please forgive me

But I no longer hear the music
Oh no no no no no

Well I no longer hear the music when the lights go out
Love goes cold in the shades of doubt
The strange face in my mind is all too clear
Music when the lights come on
The girl I thought I knew has gone
And with her my heart it disappeared

Well I no longer hear the music
Oh no no no no no

And all the memories of the fights and nights
Under blue lights and all the kites
We flew together
Love thought they'll fly forever

But all the highs and the lows
And the tos and the fros
They left me dizzy
Oh won't you please forgive me

But I no longer hear the music
Oh no no no no no

Music when the lights go out
Love goes cold in the shades of doubt
The strange face in my mind is all too clear

Music when the lights come on
The girl I thought I knew has gone
And with her my heart it disappeared

But I no longer hear the music
Oh no no no no no
And I no longer hear the music



Homework for Arts. Nearly done. I keep crying. The Libertines always make me cry, but I adore them anyways.

Well, I'm bored so I thought I'd recommend some music. Actually, I'm supposed to be studying for a math exams tomorrow, but...

Right now some of my favorite 'romantic-ish' songs are, in no particular order:

Almost Lovers by A Fine Freenzy
Hey There Delilah by the Plain White Tees
Anyone Else But You by The Moldy Peaches, sung by Michael Cera and Ellen Page in Juno
By Your Side by Tokio Hotel
30 Minutes by Tatu
One Song Glory sung by Adam Pascal (playing Roger) in RENT
Better Together by Jack Johnson


Other great songs include:

Banana Pancakes by Jack Johnson
Durch Den Monsun by Tokio Hotel
All You Need Is Love by The Beatles, Across the Universe version
I Want You by The Beatles, Across the Universe version
Blackbird by The Beatles, Across the Universe version
London Calling by The Clash
Music When The Lights Go Out by The Libertines
What Became of the Likely Lads by The Libertines
Black Horse and the Cherry Tree by KT Tunstall
Miniature Disasters by KT Tunstall
Saving My Face by KT Tunstall
Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall
Lucky Number Nine by The Moldy Peaches
Strawberry Fields Forever by The Beatles, Across the Universe version
Violet Hill by Coldplay


...and that's it, I guess. For now. I have too many song the I like; I'm having troubles choosing. I will say though, that Music When The Lights Go Out is my favorite right now. And the adorable looking boy in my icon is Bill Kaulitz, lead singer of Tokio Hotel, about 5 years ago. The half-of-a-face on the right is his twin brother, Tom, lead guitar.

Enjoy!

I'm going insane. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhfcvreagfb. Dance people are so weird.

I'm a little hypocritical, I suppose.

I'm sitting in a corner watching about 20 girls put on make-up and complain about costumes. It's very interesting...

Watch this, but have a barf bucket on hand. Seriously.

http://www.peta.org/feat/ChineseFurFarms/index.asp

I've been noticing when people use terms like 'gay' and 'faggot' as insults a lot lately, and it's been bugging me. My parents being gay, I am probably expected to be a bit insulted, but feeling irritated about it actually came as a surprise to me. I've become pretty numb to people using 'gay' as an insult, so when I started wanting to hiss at people for saying it I was a little confused.
I've figured it out now though. If people bully me or glare, or whatever, it's easy to bite off a few sarcastic comments and then laugh about it with all the gay/les/bi folk that I know for the next few weeks. But it's a lot harder to speak up about something if it's used casually and your just eavesdropping. I did actually say something to one of my friends/classmates today, and they kind of shriveled and apologised a few thousand time. But he'll be back at it tomorrow...
Also, in more upbeat news, I'm now writing a monthly column in a Youth Newspaper. The first one came out today, which is exciting. The topic was the new anti-smoking laws in Vancouver.
Also, because I think I'm still in shock, one of the two sort-of attractive boys in my school (and the only single one) lit his face on fire... whoops! So everyone is waiting to see if he is mangled. At that he's okay of course. But the majority just want to know if they should still get T-shirts with his face on them or not...

.

Kitchen Sink

.

I fumble about in my mangled pockets to find the keys that I was entrusted with only moments before. Fortunately I find them quickly, my fingers, numb with cold, scrambling to get a hold on them. As soon as they are free, I drop them. Sally, who has been standing behind me in relative quiet until now, laughs, and stumbles into the wall. Her paint and beer soaked jacket slips off one thin shoulder, creating a wonderful picture of adolescent drunkenness.

I lock the door to her dad’s new (though now very well used) studio, and wrap my scarf around my throat once more to keep away the wind. Sally pulls out a half-empty pack of cigarettes. She grabs one, and I think fleetingly that she is going to offer it to me (something she would never do when sober), but she clasps it between her lips. Sally smiles as she nearly sets her hair alight, a crooked, giddy, wicked smile that makes me shiver, and grimace a little.

I have found that ones ‘firsts’ are always interesting, whether they are good or bad: first time on a plane, first tooth, first broken bone. This is my first time taking care of someone drunk off their arse, and that scares me. Wandering Vancouver at night with no money in a way the city could otherwise never manage.

I glance at Sally, who grins, and laughs again, smoke tendrils curling between her teeth, It is oddly reassuring. She clasps my hand.

Susan: temporarily wrecked

 

“Hey. Hey, Susan, can I borrow your extra pencil. Mine’s missing. I think Terry might have taken it again.” Susan, the delicate, painfully shy daughter of a well-off actor, smiles slightly.

“Sure. I’ve got lots.” I know this already, of course. Sarah sits closer to me (and I’d rather ask her, though I’ll never say it aloud), but Susan always brings extra pencils.

“Thanks.” She smiles again and bobs her head, fake brown curls bouncing.

I go back to my drawing, doing my best to make straight, careful strokes. I want to finish class with no homework.

“Ann! I heard it’s your birthday today.” Terrence Heaney, always slow to hear the current going ons, smirks as he yells across the classroom.

“It is Heaney! Thanks for noticing!” I call back. Susan giggles hesitantly next to me when Terry looks disappointed, as though hoping that I would have taken his late notice as an insult. 

He is about to retort, his face scrunched unattractively, when Mr. Johnston opens the door and strides to the front of the class.

“I told you to be silent -”, we quickly sit straight and the only sound is rustling clothes, “-while I was gone. You should have been working on your landscapes. Who was talking?”

Everyone glances around the room, taken aback at his abrupt manner. Nobody answers, of course, except-

Susan, who had been the only person I had seen drawing the entire time, raises her hand. I opened my mouth to protest that she hadn’t been talking, when I remembered she had- four words.

“Miss Clements? You were talking? I heard more voices than that. Anyone else?” He looks angry now, and I find this odd, because usually he’s very even tempered and he’s much better than the other grade five teacher, Mr. Andrews.

My hand twitches against my will, but he doesn’t notice. It’s my fault that Susan will get into trouble, but I don’t say anything.

“No?” Mr. Johnston frowns at us, and nods sharply. “Susan, come to the front of the class.”

Susan trembles slightly. All our heads follow her solemnly as she walks up the aisle between the desks.

“I-” She starts to say, so softly that I’m not sure if I am hearing her already quiet voice or just seeing her lips moving, but stops quickly as Mr. Johnston’s lips twitch downwards.

“You have gotten out of hand.” He tells us gloweringly. He pulls open the desk drawer and pulls out a ruler. I gasp along with the rest of the class, and there is no sigh of relief afterwards to release our breath, as tense as we now are. Susan clamps her lips together, eyes wide and glistening suspiciously, looking at the wall.

“Hold out your hands Miss Clements.” She does so. The whole room winces in suspense.

Whap!

He brings the ruler down on her palms quickly, before I can brace myself. I distractedly notice this is a rather self-absorbed thought, as I’m not the one being punished. Susan squeaks, and twitches.

Whap!

I notice that he is counting each hit, mouthing the words: ‘two’. It makes his decision to do this seem all the more conscious and gruesome. It is so different from a mother spanking her child for a small misdemeanor in private.

Whap!

‘Three.’

Susan looks terrified and slightly mortified as well. Her face is flushed and the area around her lips is white from pressing them together so hard. I look away from her face in case she looks at me, because I wouldn’t know what to do. She seems determined not to look at anyone, so I probably needn’t worry.

Whap!

I wonder what went wrong for Mr. Johnston today, to make him do this. The pain isn’t that terrible, I know from experience, but the fact that it is happening at all is the worse. Susan’s hands are probably smarting badly, and tonight she’ll probably have to put her mother’s moisturizer on, like I did last year.

Whap!

Susan doesn’t move this time, except for the smallest wince of her fingers. Mr. Johnston releases her hands and casually sets down the ruler. Susan slowly retracts her hands, which she closes tightly, wincing again.

“You may return to your desk.”

Everyone averts they’re eyes as she goes to her desk, as though she is somehow temporarily wrecked. I glance at her through my hair. She flexes her hands and I see that her palms are an angry red.

  I face the front of the classroom again as Mr. Johnston instructs us to take out our math texts.

--

The next day, officially 10 years old, I hand out invitations to my party, which is set for the coming Saturday. I’ve invited Sarah, Michelle, Barbara, Linda, and Mary. Susan isn’t at school, but I hadn’t planed to invite her anyways. James and Johnny aren’t allowed to come, because my father has a strict no-boys policy, probably begun before I could even remember my birthday parties, when my sisters were younger.

As I’m waiting to be picked up after school, I hear faint yelling. Against my better judgment I’m curious and I follow the sound.

It’s coming from the office building, so I peek in the glass window on the door. Mrs. Clements and Mr. Johnston sit inside. Mr. Johnston is slightly pale, but irritated looking. Mrs. Clements points her manicures finger at him accusingly, powdered cheeks slightly flushed.

She is still yelling at him, but I’m interrupted before I can listen any more.

“Ann! What are you doing? I thought I told you to wait for me in front of the school?” My mother’s hand clutches my shoulder. I turn awkwardly. She sees what I’m looking at and I can see a flash of disapproval on her face before she steers me away.

I know that if I ask any questions about what I saw my party will probably be cancelled, so I stay silent. I also know that my mother is slightly jealous of Mrs. Clements, who’s perfectly curled chestnut brown hair and blue eyes and handsome, relaxed husband are much envied by many of my class’s mothers.  

I bite my lip, remembering Mrs. Clements velvet voice: ‘Cheeky! No! It is not your place to punish my daughter as a demonstration of why one should be obedient and nor when you know that others were lying while Susan told the truth! I do not appreciate it when my child comes home crying!’

--

Susan is at school today, perfectly normal. She is quiet and still afraid to use the washrooms in case one of the older girls comes in, as usual. She does her school work and sits with Linda during lunch.

“Are you going to invite Susan?” Linda asks me during math, after making sure Mr. Johnston isn’t in the room.

“Hmm?” I evade, as I’ve been evading Susan all day.

“Will you invite Susan to your birthday? Only, she said you hadn’t when I asked.” Linda, always doing her best to be inclusive, stares at me disapprovingly, lips pursed.

“Well, of course, I just haven’t gotten the chance yet.” I say.

“Ask her now.”

I huff and turn to Susan, “Hey, Susan, I’m having a birthday party on Saturday. Can you come?”

Her eyes brighten and she beams at me. “I would love to. Maybe… I might be allowed. I don’t know. I’ll have to ask my mother. But, thank you.”

I grin back, and Linda smiles, “You’re welcome. I hope you can come.”

--

The night of my party I see Susan, her older brother and her mother through their bay window, in front of the fire, reading a book. They’re laughing at some private joke, and don’t notice us biking by. Her young, smiling father enters holding a mug of coffee.

--

About a week later, Susan brings homemade cupcakes to class, and gives me the one with extra sprinkles.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to your party, Anne.” She says.

I lick some icing off the side of my mouth: “That’s okay.”

--

The next day, a Sunday, I see a moving van across the street from her house on my way home from Church, and I stop to admire the painting of a family on its side. As I turn to leave, I notice the curtains are closed at Susan’s house.

--

I never saw Susan or her family again.