The Summer She Turned 17
The summer she turned 17, she had to hold all the pieces of herself together with a red ribbon she tore off an old dress. It wound its way around her neck, her heart and her throat. It snaked down to her hips, the curve of her thighs, and wrapped itself tight around the muscles in her calves.
She was the darling girl, the blond with the great ass, the small tits and the flashing green eyes who could quote poetry, who wanted to be a singer, who collected fireflies in glass jars, hoarded pieces of broken jewelry, and watched heat lighting dance off the tops of houses.
She was the girl all the local boys followed home from summer school every day, chanting, wanna take a walk, wanna take a walk? This was code to slink down to the woods beyond the public swimming pool and make out. She wasn't feeling it because most of them had sharp noses and acne on their chin and cheeks.
She was the girl the pervert followed, the priest tried to kiss when no one was looking, the girl who inflamed her stepfather, her English teacher, her gym coach and half the football team and all the time she had to hold herself together with that bright piece of red ribbon because overnight, the summer she turned 17, she'd become a stranger in her own body.
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Author's Note
A short piece originally intended for publication in The Erotica Project.
Other stories by Lillian Ann Slugocki
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I like the image of the red ribbon as a lifeline that holds a fracturing self together, but this reads to me like the beginning of a story, not a story entire. Seems like there's (at very least) a neat story in how/why she came to feel like she's coming apart, and one about how/if she gets back together.
thank you, that's definitely something to consider, glad the metaphor translated.
This image rings true, from within and without. To be a girl in a woman's body. Beautiful.
Juhi, thank you very much.
Rare, serious, compelling.
This is sad and common, how we are given ourselves inside our bodies but not really asked by anyone or anything if we like the package of it all. It calls for courage but that only comes at the moment when it either lights or fails us. Still we walk on.Most of them had sharp noses..nicely done.
thanks so much for your comments, its really great to have a forum where you can take risks.
The red ribbon is a powerful image. You say it's holding "the pieces of herself" together, but as an image, it is also something that snakes around her, something like blood, something that suggests falling apart or wounding as much as keeping together. Which makes it doubly powerful.
dear Jane: thank you so much for you astute comment, what wounds her is what keeps her together
Good, tight complete story, LA.
Top literary fiction. Deserves to be on the front page.
fav
Myra, thank you so much!
The metaphor fully translates - and what I found most compelling - although she has that sense of needing to keep herself together, that she had become, at 17, a stranger in her own body, she is aware, intuitive, clear in her thinking about what she will not do, "wanna take a walk", of how she herself is perceived by others. That at 17 she is mature, and not just in body, and that maturity will see her through. Really well done!
Dear Cherise: continue to be amazed and grateful for all comments, its really wonderful to have this piece parsed so intelligently and sensitively, thanks so much.
Evocative piece. Felt like looking at something precious encased in filmy glass-- like the stems of roses through a glass vase
thank you Susan!
I love the precision of writing here as much as the images and the ideas - the way the ribbon is "torn" and the way it "snakes". You choose your words with such care, in a short space you've written a whole idea of who this girl is. Leaving us wanting to know more, of course, which is a good thing too. It feels very much like the beginning of something... I wonder if we'll hear more about this girl and her ribbon, and whether it does hold her together or whether it/she unravels.
Michelle, thanks so much for your wonderful comment, perhaps the girl and her ribbon may make another appearance!
As I said, LA, this story should be at the top of the front page. Would give it another fav, if it were allowed, but perhaps this comment will help.
Come on guys who have commented but not faved, you know this is top stuff!
yo, la--
this one is it.
go
Great!
[Get rid of "at the spaghetti supper"--great image but it just won't fit. It spoils the rhythm and hijacks sense.]
Great!
Myra, thanks so much, and Bill, interesting b/c I added it at the last minute, good note!
Now Published on wufniks.com!
LA...saw this up on Wufniks...this is such a gem. The cadence is played just right and the last paragraph, one wonderfully rhythmic sentence that turns the whole piece, external to internal.
So glad I caught this. Very well done. Love the ending!
Oh man. This kills me. The contrast between the second paragraph and the last is devastating. The writing is amazing: "watched heat lightning dance off the tops of houses."
So glad I saw this. Fave.
Beautiful writing. This feels like it builds on your other pieces as well, that the prose of one is in correspondence with the prose of the others.
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thanks all for the new comments on this piece, and special thanks to Jason Lee Norman for publishing on wufniks!
I visualize the red ribbon as one torn from the waistband and adjoining sash of a young girl's party dress - the old kind of dress that one wears with a puffy crinoline, and is tied with a huge bow in the back. It would be a wondrous thing to witness, the ripping of that little-girl bow, and its conversion to something wildly new. Fine tale - you gave me a fantasy.
Thank you grey, I appreciate the note.
The red ribbon is an intriguing image--I like how it becomes almost literal here in how it keeps her together.
I really like this story. You should post it on my new new group adolescence.
oh, and fave*.
holy crap! I can't not love her! I was never this girl, no way, not in any way.. I wanted to be this girl and boy would i have envied her. But it hurts to be her because she is now something outside of herself. And I love her!