Flesh and Bone

I don’t remember who told me the story of Aunt Debbie’s tangle with chicken wire under the floating dock at Kanopolis, but I’ve often wondered; would I have done the same flesh and bone tearing in order to live, because we are not fish, you know, even though Debbie got hooked. And for a while I couldn’t stop looking at her hand of four fingers, how she showed them off with a row of pretty polished rings that sparkled as much as her heroic tale. I think somebody tried to fish her finger out from the bottom of the lake, but something tells me she doesn’t even miss it.

Written for Blogging U

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16 Comments

    • I also loved your “turn it up” piece. I thought the first sentence was confusing, but as I couldn’t offer any better structure, I just didn’t comment. That is in no way saying that I didn’t love the rest of it! I like your word smithing. 😊

      • Thanks Laura – for this back and forth convo. It has given me something to think about, and I will take your advice.

  1. I really like this.You managed to tel an entire very interesting story in just a few short words, and yet it doesn’t feel incomplete. And we were able to see the humor and pain and terror of it all alongside one another. well done!

  2. nicely done and the image stay with me, in my head the finger in the bottom of the lake…wonderful way with words

  3. You are such an incredible poet. I love your work.

    “would I have done the same flesh and bone tearing in order to live”

    Excellent question.

  4. Wow!! My favorite line? “…would I have done the same flesh and bone tearing in order to live, because we are not fish, you know, even though Debbie got hooked.”

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