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The picture is a bit too dark....Look at the newest phots of this hare at lalootka's attic to see what transformation she had through.
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So happy together. Two lambs overlooking the landscape of the Isle of Terschelling (NL) View Awards Count
This lady had her two dogs with her and they were happy to play fetch in the water on what was a hot and muggy summer day.
Two girls sit on a bench by a small lake, waiting for their boyfriends. The girls are 12. The boyfriends are the first they’ve really had.
Like the girls, the boys are friends. They’ve become a foursome. And today they’re all skipping school together.
It’s November. The wind off the lake is chilly, the grass around it brown and matted, clumped with goose poop and dotted here and there with bits of garbage. Fast food wrappers, empty cigarette packs, old Kleenexes, beer cans – glisten dully around the bench in the weak winter light.
One of the girls lights a cigarette, inhales extravagantly… waves a hand in front of her face to dissipate the smoke from her match. Tosses the match on the ground by the bench. Stares at the lake.
She’s the older-looking one. The more mature one. She has breasts and hips and long shiny hair.
The other girl is still awkward, skinny, flat chested, hipless. Worried that her curvy friend – who she has known since kindergarten – will one day abandon her.
They’ve been friends forever, it seems. And they were always equals. But now, time is taking them in different directions. The skinny girl doesn't like it. Not one bit. But what can she do? She is trapped... helpless. She cannot stop puberty.
“Give me a cigarette,” the skinny girl says.
The curvy girl makes a face like “What? Are you serious?” Turns to the skinny girl, blinks a few times rapidly and blows out a long blue plume into the damp air.
“But you don’t smoke,” says the curvy girl.
“Maybe I want to start,” says the skinny girl, wondering… even as she says this… what the hell she’s thinking. She’s repulsed by cigarettes. Has tried them a few times and ended up sick. Still.
She feels that smoking is a visible sign of aging; of sophistication. It’s one of the few things that sets her apart from the curvy girl – and is within her control. She cannot make her breasts grow or her hair shine or her pimples disappear (although she does her best to cover them). But, if she smokes, she figures, she will look more mature.
So she takes a cigarette. Holds it in her mouth while the curvy girl strikes a match and lights it. Even before she inhales, the skinny girl has a mouthful of awful.
The cigarette has a rank, dirty chemical taste. Like insecticide. The girl tries not to breathe through her nose as she sucks in the smallest possible amount of hot, acrid smoke.
The girls make small talk. They’ve known each other so long they’re able to communicate in something like a code. It consists of single syllables, of grunts, of gestures… any one of which can send them into fits of doubled-over, can't-breathe laughter.
There on the bench… just the two of them… it’s almost as though they’re still little girls. And the skinny one almost wishes they were… that they weren’t growing up; that their bodies weren’t changing; that they didn’t have boyfriends now.
In truth, she doesn’t like her boyfriend. Never would have chosen him; is really only seeing him because her friend and his friend are boyfriend-girlfriend.
In truth, some part of her is not-so-secretly in love with her curvy, mature-looking friend.
She’s been reading up on adolescence in the library. She has read that girl-girl crushes are common at this age; that they don’t mean anything; that, given time, her interest in boys will develop.
She wishes it would hurry up. She’s tired of pretending to like the boyfriend’s sloppy wet attempts at passion. She goes along with it only because, this way, she gets more time with her friend. And when she is alone at night, remembering their double dates, it’s not the boyfriend she thinks about.
“Where the hell are those guys?” the curvy girl asks, looking at the time on her cell phone. The boyfriends are late. The four of them were meant to meet here half an hour ago.
It’s cold by the lake. The girls huddle in their coats, hands in pockets, breath making clouds.
By the time the man approaches them, they have almost given up on the boyfriends arriving at all.
(to be continued)
Tulips
Thanks for the texture, www.flickr.com/photos/27805557@N08/4624872368/
500px.com/photo/108172019/two-by-karen-mcquilkin?from=use...
Qurtaba (Córdoba)
very strong direct sunlight made the background..
small size, low quality image (space economy )
Done and done, and I'm still not ready for the day. I'm not sure when this heat wave started, but we're in for another week of 100+ degree days and no rain for relief. It's really getting boring being stuck inside all day. I do some yardwork every day, but can only stand it for an hour or two.
Good news, though! Next week the highs are supposed to take a nose dive down to 99 degrees all week!
Our two boys eating peacefully side by side. Bastian's tail looks like a pipe cleaner compared to Rags' more bushy one...
Bastian (mixed breed) & Dushara Tatters and Rags, (Somali), 10.10.2015.
Olympus OMD EM5 Digital Camera
Two seater RAF Typhoon of 29 Squadron, ZK381, banking hard at the end of Thirlmere in LFA17. 'Triplex31'
Two very different good books.
"Home to Appleby Farm" is about a young girl who leaves her job and boyfriend to help her uncle and aunt at their struggling farm..
"The Diamond Eye" Kate Quinn's fourth book about strong women during the Second World War is mainly set in Russia and very much based on the memoirs of Lyudmila Pavlichenko called "Lady Death: The Memoirs of Stalin's Sniper".