The Storyteller (l.h)

Part 4

There's books she's scared to open,

And books she doesn't close,

Stories of every person she's met,

Stretched out in endless rows,

Some people have only a sentence,

While others once held a main part,

Thousands of inky footprints,

That they've left across her heart,

Alice was a woman of detail, Luke noticed. And if he hadn't already, he would've when she completely opened up to him. She told him stories and memories that made her who she was, and a lot of them were about people that she was barely acquainted with: Martha from the bakery that knows her order (chocolate croissant and a green tea latte), Benny that always rides his bike up and down the sidewalk in her neighborhood after school and all day Saturday, Serena that paid for her groceries once. She'd never spoken one word to her before or after; she was long gone before Alice could catch her and thank her. She told stories about people that played small parts in her life but made her happy and made everything she went through a little easier to deal with. Luke wanted to go to each one of them and thank them.

She told stories about her mother who taught science at her elementary school and who took her to the park every Thursday because the ice cream truck sold everything for half the price on Thursdays. Alice and her mother made brownies or cookies or cupcakes when either of them were sad to cheer them up, then left the creamy mix covered dishes for her dad to wash.

She told stories of her dad who was a lawyer and who came in every night and kissed her forehead and watched cartoons with her no matter how tired or frustrated he was because he wanted to spend time with his little girl "before she was all grown up." Her father was the one that taught her how to skateboard which led to her kicking Luke's butt when they had races down at the skatepark.

She told stories about her older brother that held her hand at their grandmother's funeral, and came into her room that night and cried with her because he didn't want anyone else besides her to see him cry. It was her brother that snuck her her first drink of alcohol ever and her first cigarette and her first fake ID and basically anything that a normal brother wouldn't want his little sister to be doing.

And when Luke asked her how she remembered all of these things, she told him, "I just know that I would want to remember, so I do. I never did anything out of the ordinary. My life was amazingly normal, and if I didn't remember all the reasons that was a good thing, I would grow to regret it."

all of these have little themes and stuff in them and i feel like a wise old grandmother and it's amazing.

i love you.

alexis xx