Shifting Sands
I never knew the truth until today. I had often wondered, been slightly confused, and even bemused by my family. Maybe I didn’t want to know or maybe I was afraid of the truth. Truth can be so clear, so defined, with sharp angular edges jutting out like shards of glass. I like soft, subtle shading with ill-defined edges possibly aided by a glass of red wine, jazz on the radio and a shimmering sunset.
I didn’t look like anyone in my family – blue eyed, blonde hair, fair skinned, left-handed. How could I belong to this group of brown-eyed, brown-haired, right-handed people?
My sisters fed the beast by telling me frequently I had been left on the doorstep and was taken in by our family. They told me this story mostly so I would cry and they could comfort me, wiping away my tears while they said, “But it’s not true. We love you and you are one of us.” But I was never sure.
When I took high school biology and we studied genetics, I became quite absorbed with recessive genes and how I ended up with blue eyes. I discovered that blue-eyed grandparents had fed the trait and I breathed a little easier. Maybe I really did belong. Maybe I was just special.
For years, I was consoled by the proof of high school genetics, but then one day a letter arrived asking if I was interested in meeting my birth mother. What in the heck did that mean? I shuddered and realized I had been duped by my family. I was adopted and the truth had been revealed by a thin little letter arriving in my mailbox on a cloudy day in May.So, who did I belong to? Who were my people? I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet this stranger claiming to be my mother. I wasn’t sure I could withstand the shards of glass that might cut my fragile life in two - the life I had so carefully built out of blocks of sand. Somehow I had suspected a stiff wind or raging storm might blow my house down and it finally had. The shaking earth and shifting sands pulled me to a distant shore where genetics proved to be stronger than that which I had known as truth before I knew the truth.
Below you will find links to all the other participants in Fiction Friday IV. Please send me a PM if you would like you link to appear here.
TIP:
Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Emily Conyngham
Ted Frier
Chicken Mãâàn
LeRay .
kitd
Sparky Dashforth
Salon.com
Comments
rated~
Rated with hugs
R
♥R
Good read...indeed!
1. This was very thought-provoking and I love how you describe the protagonist's preferred kind of truth.
2. Whoa. Our pieces for this week's Fiction Friday are very different, but there are some major similarities in the conflicts of our characters! Really, really strange coincidence...great minds think alike!
Thanks Satori! Thanks to google images for the photo!
What a nice comment Susie. Much appreciated!
Linda, I'm glad you found a little something to relate to. I have a feeling we all feel a little out of place in our own families at times.
Out on a limb, I suppose it is a bit like that.
FusunA, yes the maybe disappears and the truth is there to behold.
Blinddream, I'm sorry if this stirred up unhappy memories, but I'm glad you enjoyed the story.
Very specific, Naomi, the north side of a tree. I suppose he lived on the south side!
Thanks, Leon.
Alysa, I do see the small parallels in our stories but yours is much more fully fleshed out. If any of you haven't read Alysa's yet, please head that way.
Rei Momo, I suspect there are many kids that sense something doesn't feel right. I think nowadays people tell their adopted children quite early so they can talk about it and deal with the feelings that come up.
Thank you, hugs me
Michelle, your kind words are deeply appreciated.