A Crow

Memories of being casted out by her older sister and her friends in games, translated…

“She’s a crow”, as I’d played with the neighbors, my older sister would always announce first.  We’d circled around in the small alley, counting, and, my hand was always overlooked, not counted, and, I would never be “it”.  I’d learned to run like hell like the other children, to hide, or to leap up high, to cross my arms at my chest calling, “Red”.  But, the “it” would never come catch me, and, everybody was able to, dodge me, as they continued their game.

“But why a ‘crow’?”, I’d asked, as I placed the roasted duck skin into my mouth, I’d wandered, “because………everybody says so”, my sister couldn’t tell me why exactly, only said, “perhaps, it’s because of how back then, you’d run around all day, calling out incessantly, so noisy like the crows.”

from the papers…

There is a gap between my and my older sister’s age, I’m a younger child of the relatives.  It’s just a couple of years later, and now, it’s, no big deal, but, back then, it was between an infant and an adolescent girl, it wouldn’t be easy, for me, to play with them all.

When, did I actually discover the meaning of “crow”?  I’m not really certain, id’ recalled, how I would expose my arms, or my legs, for the “it” to come tag me.  But most of the time, it was, as if, I’d become, transparent, nobody can see me, and, if the “it” accidentally tagged me, s/he would have this look on her/his face, and called out, “This one doesn’t count!”, as everybody else hollered out.  Then, I’d intentionally become clumsy, tripping over my tubby feet, and, gotten these abrasions by crashing against the roughness of the tarp roads, and start to cry because of it, and at which time, my older sister had to holler out to all her playmates, “pause”, to stop the game.  I still clearly recalled the feel of that roughness of the road, how there would be this souring scent that came from the tarp roads, and my older sister, using her arms, to make a “T” in front of her chest.

And because of it, this crying, tagging along annoying child became, even more annoying.

“Then what?”, “Then you started school.” I’d started having my own friends, and my older sister started having troubles of her adolescent years too, and, it’d become, impossible to play those games together again………

not my photo…

“It’s not like that,”, my older sister swallowed the duck, continued, “back then, you’d had fun all by yourself, as you’d started recognizing the characters, you’d started reciting your textbooks aloud, or you’d started, dancing along with the music that came on on the radio.”, and, all of these, shy ways of entertaining myself, I’d still have memories of, but, I’d made sure, that nobody was in the house, and I’d started, playing like this.  “Back then, we’d, cracked open that small creak in the door and watched, haha, such a little brat you were.”, my older sister said.

“So, I’m a brat, brat grows up just the same.” And, after the crows get older, they’re still, crows, I’d chewed on the overly sweet dessert, and, I saw that image of a crow, playing with the pebbles by itself.

I should’ve added a small white portion of green onion in, because without the spicy, the bitterness, it just, couldn’t bring out how crisp, how salty, how aromatic the Peking duck was.

So, these, were the memories of your childhood years, and because you were younger, and you’d wanted someone to play with, but your older sister and her friends didn’t want you to tag along, so, they’d often, snuck away, leaving you alone, and, you’d become, lonely, just like that crow that was an outcast, that managed to find its own entertainment by playing with the pebbles it’d found.