The Anti-Grinch Girl
A lot of things made her cry, but what else would you expect from someone whose heart was three times too big? Not so much worn on her sleeve as on her upper torso. You didn't need a stethoscope to hear it beat, didn't need to be a doctor to know it would cause her pain.
No matter how much she took to her heart there was always room for more. Another fire, another frozen wino, another ignored sunset - they lodged in her heart and set about aching. Watching the news was particularly painful; story after story stabbing her with sorrow and shame.
She was paler than pale. All her blood was needed to keep her too-big heart beating. She once met a man on holiday whose touch set her heart racing. She nearly died. "You need to be careful about that," the doctors warned. "No racing hearts - and for God's sake don't fall in love."
Easier said than done. Youthful Eric - of the small, cold heart variety - decided he couldn't handle her too-big heart. So he broke it. Everyone in the cafe heard it - a grinding, tightening sound followed by one terrible twang after another. But Eric just looked searchingly out the window, pretending the noise came from somewhere else.
No matter how much she took to her heart there was always room for more. Another fire, another frozen wino, another ignored sunset - they lodged in her heart and set about aching. Watching the news was particularly painful; story after story stabbing her with sorrow and shame.
She was paler than pale. All her blood was needed to keep her too-big heart beating. She once met a man on holiday whose touch set her heart racing. She nearly died. "You need to be careful about that," the doctors warned. "No racing hearts - and for God's sake don't fall in love."
Easier said than done. Youthful Eric - of the small, cold heart variety - decided he couldn't handle her too-big heart. So he broke it. Everyone in the cafe heard it - a grinding, tightening sound followed by one terrible twang after another. But Eric just looked searchingly out the window, pretending the noise came from somewhere else.
posted by shannon at 5:58 AM
2 Comments:
Beautiful. I love the idea. I love the writing. But that Eric eh?
I love the final paragraph of this. It is the written equivalent of someone looking out of a window, yearning for something they've lost. I suppose I just related it to personal experience and that's why I found it poignant.
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