Monday, December 9, 2013

"Bear" Bearton Julius


The old man smoking tobacco pipe

My father’s pipe was cherry wood. Its name was 1994 Bearton Julius, but he called it “Bear” because he didn’t really like the mouthful. He doesn’t like mouthfuls of anything. Except smoke, I guess.

            He smokes often. Every day, when I come home from school and wander into the living room, he’s sitting on his recliner, smoking the pipe idly. He’s looking at the sky out the window. It’s moments like these that I think he looks like a portrait. He’s still, the only movement being the smoke billowing out from the pipe in heavy little clouds. The sun melts into the room, onto a carpe. I sit there, watching him smoke. His fingers are gentle on the pipe; gentler on the pipe than anything else.

                “Daddy,” My voice is quiet, and he doesn’t look at me, but I know he’s listening. “Can you do it? Just once.”

                He’s still for a lifetime, but when he moves, the world  moves with him.

             He blows into the pipe and smoke erupts from it, twirling and dancing, lively and jubilant. White clouds become champagne bubbling; the smoke becomes elegance. I reach up, lean forward, and watch in awe. The smoke curls and caresses my fingers. It travels down my wrist, to my arm, and I feel it hot on my collarbone. It glides up my neck and brushes my cheek. It smells like fire and tobacco.

                I blow cold air at the cumulated smoke, and colors explode.

                The smoke is a galaxy of hues, from deep, painful blue to vibrant, breathtaking yellow. I reel back to get a better look, and the smoke follows close behind. It smolders red and screams purple. The smoke creates scenes for me, creates beautiful pictures. For a moment it’s stars in the sky, and slowly it becomes confetti. Eventually it becomes the ocean.

                My eyelids flutter closed, and I inhale deeply. When they reopen, the smoke has blinked out of existence. 



CITATION:
Porato, David. "Stock Photo: The Old Man Smoking Tobacco Pipe." Dreamstime. Dreamstime, 13 Oct. 2013. Web. 09 Dec. 2013.

4 comments:

  1. nice pic tessa! love your story! x

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love your descriptions and word choice. Also, this is my favourite line in the story, "He’s still for a lifetime, but when he moves, the world moves with him." I loved it :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Your story is really good. I love the imagery that you used in your story.

    ReplyDelete