Taking a shot at a southern accent. I’m no expert, so apologies in advance. This one was at the request of the always wonderful Samara. S, whenever you want to do a road trip to Mississippi, I’m in.
I’m out. Yeah, I hadda get out. I’m out in the murk after dark watchin the aurora borelis while the kids sleep off the day. I made a deal with the house not to burn down while I’m gone.
I hear ya, Jesus. Ya’ll er cringin up there, I get it. But ya’ll don’t know nuthin, fer God’s sake. Ya’ll just wanna pass yer judgment on me.
I’m out here recoverin from the hollerin. I’m thinkin on Rosalie and I’m missin on her. I’m thinkin about how long it’s been since I felt her eyes on me, how long since I lifted up her hair and smelled her neck. I’m rememberin how it used to be, Saturday nights out here in the water, me’n her, out here in the soupy air. Rememberin how we’d toss our clothes up in the trees and dive in the warm river. Rememberin how I’d pull her up on the mucky shore and hold’er down. Rememberin how it felt when she was real. Recallin how I got stuck with four dang kids to begin with.
I’m lookin up in the heavens and recallin how much I loved her, my Rosalie. Saturday nights it’d be just the two of us. We’d fuck and swim, fuck and swim. Yeah, we’d leave the kids even back then. God knows how it is when you got those little ones at home.
It’s loud out’ere ya know? The bugs chirpin and the frogs goin at it, it’s a wonder I can think at all. Still it beats the hollerin. It beats it all, God knows this is the best it gets, out here. These days I take the boat out on the river, cut the engine, and listen. Sometimes ya get the little fishes comin up round the boat lookin for sumthin to bite. Tonight I’m too busy lookin up to pay em any mind.
How often this sky come down South here, I wonder. This an Alaska sky or sumthin, I wanna say. This sky belong up there at the North Pole. It’s too much, all them colors relected in the murk. I wish she was here with me now. That blue is like her eyes, I tell ya. It’s like she’s still here, nakid, lookin on me with her blue eyes. She did better’n me with the kids. They know it too. I’m doin my best, God knows it, but four kids need’n their momma. I’m workin all the God damn time and I’m about to give out, Rosalie. They don’t complain none, but Rosalie May, we need ya. Rosalie May, your man is alone here and your babies are sleepin in a burnin house, Rosalie.
I’m fixin to get back real soon. Soon’es these colors pass and I finish with my Rosalie. Just a little longer now. Kids’ll be up too soon, hollerin with the sunrise like a buncha cocks crowin’.
Hush now. Jesus Christ, ya’ll just wanna pass yer judgment on me.
This is so good.
I’m not sure – what happened to Rosalie. I guess she died?
Sad. Bittersweet.
The accent is perfect.
Samara stole all my comments! So, um, ditto. 😉