So back in the alley, next thing I know, I'm listening to: God Damn It, Annie! Look what you did! When I get home I'm gonna catch it for sure!
It was not Joseph’s words but his eyes, blazing with humiliation’s fury, that shot the burning arrow, which pierced straight through my heart right before he bent down to grab up the soggy mess, which had landed in a muddied puddle of melted snow at our feet. And with one hand shaking off dripping lumps of half frozen muck sticking stubbornly to his hat, Joseph, yanking at King's leash with the other glares at me before spinning on his heel, leaving me staring at his back as he stamps off in a huff down the alley toward his house on the next block while Pixie and I, remaining utterly stymied as though we’d been swept up into an electrified whirlpool of emotional reactiveness that spit us out as fast as we’d been sucked in, stand glued to the spot, brains reeling in a mindless state of disbelief, because no one would ever believe that of all the girls in our class, Joseph had just kissed the laughing stock from the Hebrew bus, whom no guy in his right mind would ever ask out on a date! And as my first crush with his best friend in tow leave Pixie and me behind, I, feeling utterly bedazzled by this shocking change for the better in my fortune am suffused with an extraordinary sensation of wonderment coursing throughout my entire being while staring after Joseph until he, entering his back yard, fades from view before I, caught up within love’s magic spell, feel myself spinning as would a dancer on a pedestal once the lid of a fully wound music box had been opened, revealing reason for my spirit to float on air, as though in slo-mo, once Pixie and I head for home without so much as even one conscious clue that my defense mechanism of denial has swept Joseph’s fury at my instinctive reaction right into subconscious storage—so huge was my processor’s after-shock while the conscious portion of my mind remained fully focused upon digesting the deeply confounding fact that The Leader of the Pack had just hugged and kissed ME!
Upon entering my back door, leading into our kitchen, we see the dancer on the pedestal bend down to unleash and stroke Pixie‘s head with no clue of having taken yet another step deeper into the dark, hazy maze of Denialand where I can't see or feel the tree in the forest falling on me to save my life. But then when it comes to memory, lots of changes are known to take place inside our heads to which we remain blind most especially at twilight time—and if the truth be told, do any of us really have a clue as to what shocking event may be lying in wait to shake each of us to our very core from one minute to the next? I mean, how often do we hear that life can spin toward unexpected change on the toss of a dime ...
In short, who can fault the inexperienced mind of a child, who has habitually (beginning at the age of three), maintained her grip on sanity based in the belief that all is well in her little corner of the world, and as long as Annie harbors need to weave daydreams into pipe dreams while her wall of denial layers up, blocking her conscious memory from acknowledging the subconscious existence of the dark side of reality (which is far too painful for her young mind to ‘bare’), nothing will interfere with her perception of her dreamscape as being true, through and through until ...
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