When I was in 4th grade, my father had kidnapped me and my sister, and we lived out in a wooded area of the Redlands with his new girlfriend and her daughter. One weekend, we went to visit the girlfriend’s parents house. They lived deep in the Everglades. Her daughter made a big deal of counting the alligators on the side of the road the whole way out to their place.
We went further west than I had ever traveled, west being naught but wilderness, and then took a dirt road for what felt like forever. Finally, we came to an airboat tied to a tree on a shallow pond. By that time it was getting dark and it seemed like there were things (moss, roots, branches went askew) hanging from all the trees. We took the (VERY LOUD, if you’ve never been in one) airboat out to their property, and had dinner that included frog legs and talk of an uncle’s rattlesnake bites, in their all-wood dining room. The entire place was made of cypress on a small island, and in my memory it looks just like this although that can’t be realistic at all.
The thing is, this was a very short and strange period of one year of my childhood, but I have pictures of the daughter and my sister playing together, and I have friends-of-friends on facebook now who share photos of her wedding to someone I had in my high school classes. I saw the mother (my dad’s ex gf) at my college recently, and we locked eyes across the advisement lines and I felt like I could hear her thoughts (that must be her she looks just like him now) for a second.
(Source: eatlivewear, via parvulaboca)