after the storm

Dandelions grow, after the storm. 

Rain like wine, living in puddles, for birds to bathe in.

The thickest clouds gone, thinned down to nothing. 

After the storm, the elder on the front porch of a bright yellow house stops rocking in his chair. An "umph" on the getting up. An agile toss of rice to the birds below. "Shhrrrah" goes the rice. Two dogs play far from it, tossing each other in the grass.

A familiar truck passes the small home on Japonica Street. Two little girls sit in the back. A dark hand holds a lit cigarette and darker lungs puff out smoky breaths.

The red truck moves on, along with the girls in it, who both wonder similar things about that elder on the front porch. "The bird-feeding elder. I wonder what he's thinking outside on his chair, even when it's so hot."

5 years passed since. Then 10 years pass.

Long after the elder is gone, no longer on that porch, a stranger to everyone involved, the questions linger. "Was he ever waiting on anyone, past 5 pm?"

The older girl, Ngoc, at 11, learns about imperfect memory. The more you replay a memory, the less accurate it is each time. You keep cherry-picking the best and worst parts, until that memory is no longer true. As time passes, memory transforms into story. A fiction film.

A story best served on a blog.

The littler girl, Yen, just knows she doesn't want to be like her older sister, who's always living in her head. Yen wants to do the thing, act the thing, become the thing. Nothing moves if you keep thinking. Things move when you act on it. And live so well that there's no one's validation to achieve but her own.

So what does that old man on the porch ponder about? How does he live his life?

As if time has slowed? As if you don't have to move or act on anything, as long as you have a place on your own porch?

What joy could there be, sitting there feeding birds every evening? So that two little girls can wonder about you when you're no longer there?

***

It's Ngoc here. In 2025. 

I don't have my own porch. There's too much snow to feed birds on a day like today.

At least 4 inches of snow now. Enough for my county to label it a Level 3 Emergency. "If you're on the road, you're going to jail." Enough snow for my bank to call it a Snow Day, for me to stay home.

My little Subaru is blanketed in white. I don't have a shovel. It's 22 outside.

I haven't turned on the heat. 

I don't need heat right now, when tea did the job. I made myself brown rice green tea. The aroma of the rice is nutty and the green tea is caffeine-y. Thanks to Cayla, I now have a water kettle to make it. 

For many seconds, time slowed as I hovered above my tea. Its scent, the sight of snow outside, my favorite blue sweater draped on me -- I'm in my own body enjoying this amazing tea.

Snow has fallen all night. And snow will fall all day today. And I don't have a shovel.

I opened all my blinds. All four corners of the room, I have a bird's view of my neighborhood. How beautiful in white this little place is.

I'm in a movie town. Truly. You'll have to visit me. I'll show you.

And though it should be too cold for birds to be out, they are. 

They were literally playing in the snow. Perhaps the softest, fluffiest parts of the snow.

Which reminds me, it's official. 

Maeghen, Austin, and I are going to a drag show circus. I got so excited, I even invited my landlord with me, who though did not accept the invite, is excited to hear all about it after.

I didn't know Marietta was the kind of town a drag circus would pull through.

Gosh. 

Wow. 

I don't know a lot of things.

I can't wait to FEEL YOUNG AGAIN.

For now, I am accessing the "old man on the porch" in me and enjoying this movie-snow-white town. In the comfort of my apartment.

My new pink gaming chair, fresh from Cayla's apartment too, haha. I'll be on it today playing League, with new friends I made on the bus ride home from Columbus.

It seems I have a knack for it. Making new friends, new plans wherever I go.

Which is very much, the old me. The girl who always had a plan. Always had a place to be and a person to be with. 

Today, the newer-ish me, I am simply here. In my lovely apartment. My clean, clean kitchen. Gosh, how proud I am. How waking up, walking into my clean kitchen to make this damn good tea and just so fucking thankful to yesterday's me for being a good girl.

I am the goodest girl.

GOOD BEAN.

*sigh*

After the storm of getting to Marietta, I'm finally in the fun part. The part where birds play in the puddles left behind.

The part where the old man comes out and enjoys the tea of his own mind. The tea of our Southeast Houston neighborhood. The tea that is the sun, his own dogs. Perhaps replaying films of a life well-loved.

Just like I am, enjoying the tea of my still-here Christmas Tree. The tea of having all my painting utensils ready, a beautiful calendar to write on. The tea of pretty washi-tape to reinforce the edges of my books. The tea that is the snow, so abundant, that I can be home today. 

Haha, this reminds me of my high school days. There was a freeze that lasted so long that we had 2-3 days back-to-back snow days. It was the best.

The absolute best, waking up, and getting news that we can stay in bed as late as we wanted. Young little beans, Yen and I.

So I did. I smiled hard into my pillow today, after texting my boss that I can't make it, and her quick response that, "Agreed. Best for tomorrow then! Stay safe!"

Oh, I'm safe alright. ^--^