{"id":790,"date":"2017-12-27T20:27:15","date_gmt":"2017-12-28T01:27:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/?p=790"},"modified":"2019-02-19T15:17:34","modified_gmt":"2019-02-19T20:17:34","slug":"locket","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/?p=790","title":{"rendered":"Locket"},"content":{"rendered":"

after Meg Kearney <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I have a locket: it\u2019s cold and silver with a black inlay of vines. <\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s one with space for a photo, but right now it\u2019s empty. The <\/span><\/p>\n

chain is freezing my neck. I\u2019m holding a camera, holding it too <\/span><\/p>\n

low to fit anyone in the shot. Through the glass, the lense, I see <\/span><\/p>\n

a murder of crows fly away from the weeping willow tree. If only I <\/span><\/p>\n

had someone to take a picture of, I would take it. I would take <\/span><\/p>\n

thousands of pictures of him standing under the blooming tree. <\/span><\/p>\n

Dark jeans, threadbare jet black sweatshirt, cloudy grey eyes, and<\/span><\/p>\n

shaggy hair that\u2019s messy even though he brushed it this morning. <\/span><\/p>\n

He wouldn\u2019t want to, but he would smile for the camera, my <\/span><\/p>\n

camera, since he knows one of these is the photo that will be in my<\/span><\/p>\n

locket. This one is the one I will keep around my neck the whole <\/span><\/p>\n

time he is gone. Under this very tree I would tell him quietly, show<\/span><\/p>\n

him this heirloom, this old locket I found in the dark attic, <\/span><\/p>\n

engraved with dark vines, ice cold in my warm hands. I would turn the <\/span><\/p>\n

metal locket to see if something in the scene changes. He would <\/span><\/p>\n

stand and not say anything, but I know exactly what he would want<\/span><\/p>\n

to say, brushing hair off his shaded face, his skin pale, but blushing. <\/span><\/p>\n

He would smile for the camera because I asked,<\/span><\/p>\n

in my locket, <\/span><\/p>\n

but gone too fast.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

after Meg Kearney   I have a locket: it\u2019s cold and silver with a black inlay of vines. It\u2019s one with space for a photo, but right now it\u2019s empty. The chain is freezing my neck. I\u2019m holding a camera, holding it too low to fit anyone in the shot. Through the glass, the lense, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":791,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/790"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=790"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/790\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":935,"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/790\/revisions\/935"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/791"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=790"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=790"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=790"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}