Illusion

This morning's 100 words:

I could lie on my back in my childhood bed and see that tall pine tree through my window, see how the very top of it, eight feet or so, looked just like a Christmas tree, perhaps even the perfect Christmas tree, and I thought sometimes in my child mind that it would be nice to cut down that tree--to watch it fall, then lop off the Christmas tree part and decorate it. But even my five-year-old self understood somehow that everything seems perfect from far away. It's up close that the flaws become visible.

Liar

This morning's 100 words, this time a vignette:

 

She knew it would only be a matter of time before the lies caught up with her--before everyone began to see past her innocent facade and uncover the real Sarah, that vindictive, selfish woman who'd lived her life trying to attain an ideal: the ideal daughter, wife, mother, friend. But she couldn't be any of those things; she wasn't good enough. She wasn't perfect. And when she made yet another mistake and saw the anger in his eyes, fear set in. He would no longer love her if he knew the truth. And so she lied. Again.

"Reach out and touch faith"

I made salmon loaf for dinner tonight. As I was removing the skin and bones from the canned salmon, I noticed the round bones of the backbone--really noticed them. I saw their absolute perfection--how they're all flawlessly round, nearly identical in size--and to me, at that moment--and as strange as it may seem to someone else--those little bones were just one more proof of the existence of God.