Half a Conversation About a Forest and Family

Well the forest you're going to is very close to a forest I visit quite often, that's actually where I saw the massive butterfly that I mentioned not liking. It... I find it a bit frightening, because it's nothing like home, but it doesn't really do anything, except once in a while—I can't say how frequently, but it seems consistent—it will come and land on the tree, bending the trunk so much that it's nearly parallel with the waterfall.

[...]

I don't remember him that well, we were both quite young when I saw him last. He was generally quiet and withdrawn, but that meant he always had the best stories, because people would forget he was in the room or not realize he was listening when they said things they didn't want us to know.

- - -

A story about me I guess… you seem very intrigued by the idea of me having a brother, although I guess that’s not that strange, given how much you care for yours. So umm… I mentioned before that he was never the most socially adept or inclined, but when we were really young, there was about a month where we fancied ourselves artists. We would run out of the house at the crack of dawn, barely remembering to tell our father where we were going, heading all around the nearby countryside to find something to draw. I quickly realized that I wasn’t all that good at it, and the idea of art really captured my attention more than the actual… creating. But my brother, he wasn’t as motivated, but he was really good—I mean, maybe not actually that good, but as a young child, I thought he was amazing.

He really loved drawing trees, I could never really tell what made different kinds of trees different, but he would tell me fun facts about them as we worked, so I can’t identify them, but I could tell you tons of funny details about them.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

sandpaper words

an incomplete character portrait

amnesia (opening)