She was eight, and then sixteen. He was twelve, and then fifteen. I never changed. I was always a fourteen-year-old boy, stuck in the same time and body, the same uncomfortable inertia. I watched my friends grow and change, but I stayed the same. My thoughts pitched like dust, abstract and transient, but I was the same skinny kid who roamed the same paths, between the familiar and the veiled. I would grow, I would develop a man’s thoughts and ambitions and weaknesses, but I needed to grow inside my own skin first. It was as gradual as watching a chrysalis develop wings. I saw it in my friends, but not in me.

And so when my father died, it was an outrage of change. His death should not have been, but it was. I thought I — we — were immune or specially blessed because we were constant and unaltered. But time had its fingers upon us the whole time, and it was a heavy revelation.

**a work-in-progress**


16 thoughts on “Changes

    • Steven Baird July 4, 2016 / 8:40 pm

      And then the writer has to write more. 🙂 I hope things are going well for you, dear.

      Liked by 1 person

      • July 4, 2016 / 10:24 pm

        Struggling. Trying to overcome. It’s a challenge. 😔

        Liked by 1 person

      • Steven Baird July 4, 2016 / 11:07 pm

        I’m sorry about that. I hope you have someone close by to help you through things.


  1. Tanya Cliff July 4, 2016 / 6:47 pm

    I love your open for this and look forward to reading more, Steven!

    But time had its fingers upon us the whole time, and it was a heavy revelation.


    Liked by 2 people

  2. painkills2 July 4, 2016 / 8:00 pm

    Your proofreader is here to save the day. 🙂

    “between the familiar and and the veiled”


  3. D. Wallace Peach July 5, 2016 / 9:58 pm

    I think many of us grow up this way, a slow shuffle interrupted by leaps forward with the big milestones and jarring events. Wonderful writing, Steven. :-).

    Liked by 1 person

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