“Want me to leave you my kaleidoscope?”

“Yeah. Lemme see.” To buy some time I press it to my eye and feign interest, not really seeing the magic at all. All I can think of is the feeling of him in Connecticut, knowing it’s not just school he’s going back for.

“I hope I’m not forgetting anything. Call and let me know if I do. Okay?”

I nod and turn to tell him he’s forgetting his favorite tired cowboy boots beneath the bookshelf. But he’s looking at his phone, smiling at something that I am no part of. Something that is no doubt coaxing him out my door. I lift the kaleidoscope to the other eye, bolstered by the thought that I will never confess to having them when he calls me, panicked, asking if I’ve seen them.


  1. as the kalidiscope spins, worlds begin...........some fall apart.....into the unknown,once again searching for a new start..........old tired boots belittle a phone,though calls to you make me feel at home...........soon i will roam,in search of a strangers moan.........as the spring sun teases the east,north winds unleash the beast...........

  2. Rache, do you write these little bites of prose yourself, or are they lifted from The Great American Novels? I like them a lot. But if they're yours, I love them.

  3. love the denim jacket!
    And I agree with the comment above!

    The Third Mind