Is this almost over
can it be soon please?
my energy is leaking slow in a hiss like a balloon
with a sharp object slipping through it's skin
letting out every last breath inside me
(more) and I'm fading fast
every hill I climb brings me closer to
yet another one more treacherous than the previous
and my legs are growing weary
unsure of the actual distance ahead
it's difficult to ration my energy-output
with any degree of certainty
and with winter coming on I want nothing more than to
pull into myself in a corner
melt away fade away be gone from here
and onto there
I don't know where there is yet(less)
Out the window pass more desert rocks, more flat bushes, more river shots. Shelly can feel the eyes of her baby brother searching her curiously. She looks over to confirm. "stop looking at me!" yells Shelly "Mom! Ryan won't stop looking at me!".
(more) Mother cranes her neck around the passenger seat, "he loves you Shelly, why don't you try playing?" Shelly is in no mind to play with such a stupid baby. "I am 4 years old!" she proclaims at him as though to awe him with the magnanimity of her great age. Ryan's face squirms about in an attempt to imitate his sisters scrunched face.
Nope it's no good, just a stupid baby, she thinks to herself as she consigns herself to her fate of watching dirt roll by.
Watching, watching, watching, sleep... awake!
"Are we there yet"? She asks.
Mother doesn't respond. "Mother! are we there yet," this time more of a statement than a question. With an exasperated huff, she unstraps her seatbelt and pokes her head between the front seats. Gasp!
That's not mother! thats a fat little gnome! Turning her head snap quick to fathers side, gasp! "Barkus!? who let you drive"? The mastiff only grins. What is baby brother? Shelly wonders. She turns to look. meh. Still just a stupid baby brother. Ryan reaches out his pudgy arms for a hug.
Back up front again, Shelly begins to interrogate the garden gnome in her mothers seat. "What have you done with my mother gnome"? The gnome, its eyes wide with excitement, merely pronounces gobbledygook, "goobidy gidget gibbidy snippit". The mastiff goes on grinning.
Shelly realizes then that without a mother or father baby Ryan becomes HER responsibility. She screams "NO!" and wakes again.
Mother cranes around "Shelly don't yell!". Phew just a bad dream.