chrissy.city

my city, my rules

Author: cc

  • Shoes Stay On

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    A girl came up beside me and said, “I heard you were the person to speak to… about dancing?”

  • Skin Therapy

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , ,

    “Not only is she empathizing, she’s already thinking of the sentence that will soothe me. It might be hilarious, or it might be the most grounding thing I need. It’s beautiful, how clearly I can count on that.”

  • Buh-Bye

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    She makes real fruit cocktail. Slices the peaches and the pears and adds pitted cherries and her own homemade juice: fresh squeezed lime and honey, she said, “Something else, I can’t remember.”

  • Care for a slice?

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , ,

    on hot days, dead flowers & connections & presence amidst distractions.

  • Sleep Demon 🎧

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    “I walk through the same moonlit hallway, go into the bathroom with the same flickering light, and look at myself in the mirror.”

  • Altocumulus 🎧

    —

    by

    cc
    in , ,

    on emotional tethering and the nature of feelings and CLOUDS.

  • Feels like

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , ,

    “because I think I’m alone until I hear Hal from the smoke shop say: “Get it girl.””

  • Han Solo

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    He was the baby of our family, and he wanted to be seen and heard. One boy vs. three girls. I remember one time in the mudroom of our grandparents’ home, I was sitting on the couch and he was being playful. He had this small white bear dressed as a clown with spotted dots…

  • Would you excuse me? 🎧

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    I was about to log my period when it hit me: someday I’ll be an older woman, and my period will be long gone, and I’ll think, “I remember how much I hated that damn period app, and now I miss it.” I stood in my kitchen and marked my thought by saying out loud,…

  • Charged

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , ,

    on a feeling that can’t reach absolution.

  • The Watermelon Dome 🎧

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , ,

    The outside smells like when we were talking.  Musty grass. Spring giving into summer faster than most regions. The gardenia tree next door releasing its scent. Or maybe it’s the perfume I wore last year around this time. Warm and lingering on my neck, rose and blueberry and magnolia. In the watermelon dome, our skin…

  • Beth’s Son

    —

    by

    cc
    in , ,

    Don’t tell my clients, but I have favorites. Scott, age 70, with his Southern-wilted voice and firebrand progressive opinions (a welcome rarity in our book of business), is one of them. He calls me dear, and oh how I love it. I know—I’m supposed to bristle at terms of endearment from older men, but I…

  • Ujjayi

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , ,

    dripping into triangle pose,with strong legs anda twisting core,my palm sliding downsore, soft shinsto reach the floor,and my eyes, which ought to be fixedon my opposite hand,are momentarily fixed on youand the way you like to watch.powder-pink carnationsin a cobalt-bluetranslucent pitcher.your unbuttoned,secondhand-ownedNaked & Famous shirt.the conversation you decide to startwhile I’m in the most difficult…

  • Sierra’s Swarm

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , ,

    In the gulf near Beer Can Island (the worst, until Milton made it a reverie), we are surrounded by aquamarine water that mirrors the sky and is made brighter by the razor-sharp yellow of the sun. A black fog of lovebugs hover around the boat. We laugh and hold our drinks above the gentlest waves,…

  • Limbic Threat 🎧

    —

    by

    cc
    in , ,

    I have a graphto show youlike where a stock iswhen it’s about tobreak out lowerthrough the support leveland I’m blinking at the screenlistening to my office neighboryell at someone on the phone,a glass of sparkling water,a pencil I just sharpened,a post-it on my monitorwith a mantra on it.I laugh at a joke I’ve heardtoo many…

  • Rapunzel

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    You were gold-spun hair and tiny limbs and big, expressive hazel eyes, and dare I say, gold-spun skin?! You had pixie dust in your bloodstream, and it wasn’t from all the handmade princess dresses in the perfectly curated closet your mother kept for you. It was just you. You were only three in these memories…

  • Ernest

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , ,

    I see Ernest slowly make his way around the hospital floor. He is (I’m guessing) on his first lap, and it’s shaky. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s not even five a.m. or because his condition is worsening. When you stay in a hospital, time becomes something strange. For me, a visitor, it’s defined…

  • Archived

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , ,

    my hair is getting longerand my body keeps getting smallerI make boring appointmentsreceive compliments I want to return,but I don’t want to seem contrived.what I really want?is this parking lot to be empty,so I can dance to this song.I’ll settle for memory mining, though my co-author prefers meto stay silent. he’ll say:shh, get back in…

  • Cenerentola

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , , ,

    When I was very, very little, I have a memory of being very, very sick and being held by my mom, who is (by all definitions) the best mom in the entire world. She didn’t panic when you were hurt. She flew into calm, focused action. The type of mom who attacked you with kisses…

  • Cherry + Espresso

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , , ,

    I pick up Gigion the strip of road with no sidewalkand I unintentionally strut,wearing the short-shorts I slept inand a shirt that the breeze blows through,my chin forward and my shoulders back.I carry her snugin between my ribs and my hip.I can feel her back legsdangling behind meand I suppress a laughthat ends up as…

  • a Bee in the Sand 🎧

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , , ,

    Collecting moments from a snippet or a slow scene, as if they were rocks I could turn over in my hand and spot their individuality the way the light catches on one or the coarse texture of another. I want to look at them all at once and line them up, just to say: This?…

  • The Benefits of Turmeric

    —

    by

    cc
    in , ,

    The first night we fell asleep together, I said, “Holy shit. We fit.” Because we do. I’d been in the arms of someone else before you. It wasn’t the same— not as perfect, not as dizzying, not as safe. Or as unnervingly addictive. I watch you talk to people, your whole body leaned into them.…

  • Muovi il culo, è Pasqua 🎧

    —

    by

    cc
    in , , , , ,

    I love the way we sort of free falldown the stairs in the morningsfor our walk.But especiallyon holiday mornings.I think about someone my ageawake to watch their childrenexperience the plastic sensationsof their Easter basketwhile they sip a coffee.But for me, it’s different—and this isn’t to say one version isbetter or worse.I love the stillnessthe normally…

  • A sparkling powder in a puff

    —

    by

    cc
    in , ,

    when I was nine,I wrote a pleading letter to my sister who at seventeen, maybe eighteen,had left our familyto live with her birth father. I didn’t know what I was feelingwas abandonment. I wanted to be her.But like an elder sibling sometimes is,she moved through the worldwith a kind of flickerelusive,hard to predict,often difficult to…