Thursday, June 13, 2013

Mother on My Sister Suzy

Mom Dropped out of UCLA to marry Daddy and type his dissertation, but after she had five children, she went back to school and was a senior when I was a freshman and on the same campus at Fort Hayes Kansas State.  After her death, I found some compositions she wrote that year.  I'm going to share them on this blog.  This one is over-written, but I think it's artfully over-written. 



Nadine Martin, Adv. Comp, Character Sketch #7

Susy
            She slammed the screen door hard, venomously, and with all the force of her skinny eight-year-old arms.  Racing across the room in her tattered sneakers, she pulled askew the curtain of the front window, pressed a dainty nose into a hideous shape against the glass pane, stuck her thumbs in her ears, and made menacing claws of her small fingers.
            “Cheaters!  Liars!  Rat-finks!” she shrieked in a raging treble.
            Away from the window she felt angry tears gather in her dark brown eyes, and she hurled her slight self into the cushions of the dowdy, fat sofa.  But her lips firmed, and her chin poked out suddenly, stubbornly from the baby-folds of her neck.  She sniffed once, liquidly, wrinkling the tip-tilt nose.  Heavy, casually-plaited braids fell forward as she leaned over to examine a newly skinned, knobby knee.  Studying the raw, red skin she recalled an old scab on one pointy elbow.  The pin tip of her tongue ran over the full upper lip while she scratched the scab’s edge with immense care and concentration.  Flopping back on the patient sofa, she described a few lop-sided circles with her coltish brown legs, then collapsed, lay almost still, and closed her eyes.  Eyes still shut, she thrust her lower lip far forward, and energetically exhaled upward, fluttering the uneven hair of the gold-brown bang.  Under the hair the forehead was a lighter tan than the rest of her gypsy face; a small, insistent pulse beat at each temple.  Dark, stenciled eyebrows, only slightly arched, lay over creamy, opaque eyelids.  Fringes of dark-brown lash met faint freckles scattered high on warmly-flushed cheeks. 
            Refreshed by her moment’s inactivity and suddenly possessed of some happy plan for revenge, she rolled off the couch and made for the door; a wide grin of delighted malice dimpling one cheek and exposing new, still jagged-edged, white, white teeth.

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