A Tire Swing Story is a bite-sized "imagining" inspired by an object I discover while wandering. It could be a curbside trash gem or a message sprayed on a wall. A lost mitten, or an antique store find. Anything goes. I photograph the object and post them together, the story and its inspiration. There will be a new story every Monday and Wednesday. On Fridays, I'll discuss writing, life, love, and coffee. (In no particular order and maybe all at once.)

Monday, October 10, 2011

Miss Felicity loves me just the way I am. She doesn't tell me my clothes don't match, and she doesn't mind when my hair needs to be washed. 

My cat isn't like those bill collectors, who call with their harsh voices telling me my payments are past due, or that my electricity is going to be shut off. 
Most days, Miss Felicity and I sit in the chair by the window and eat cans of tuna. Then we doze with the afternoon sun on our faces. 

Jackson is always giving me a hard time. He tells me I need to get out more, join a ladies group. "Mom, lots of women your age are going on trips, or taking dance classes," he says. 

Dance classes!  

Why would I want to traipse around the Eiffel Tower snapping pictures, or put on a pair of boots and do the electric slide? All my life, people have demanded things of me. Isn't it alright that now I just want to do what I want? 

Miss Felicity understands. I scratch her ears and she gives me a nice lick on my chin. Her breath is slightly fishy and her tongue is rough, but not unpleasant. Then, just to show my gratitude, I lick her back.

Isn't it nice spending time with someone who understands you? 

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