nothing but love

roni horn - still water (the river thames, for example) 1999

I like to think Eddie went back to Tennessee when he died.

Woke up, all scraped knees and overalls, a bit confused when the gravel of the upside down was suddenly replaced with the softest, greenest grass he’d ever seen. Even more confused when he lifted up his hand to shield his eyes and saw that he’d suddenly grown smaller- no tattoos, no rings. No Hawkins. No Hellfire. Just him, and his little trailer out in the distance.

And I bet he’d ran so fast to it, swinging open the door and seeing his Mom there, reclined on the couch with her blues records lazily spinning. No Al- just her, with her perfect smile and her fruity perfume, and her southern twang he’d forgotten after years and years of memories fading. But he’s revitalized, reminded, when she laughs, and it echoes perfectly- like music.

Maybe he’d stay there forever. Drinking down pop while he read his comic books, eating the fruit his momma cuts up for him and feeling the juice drip down his chin, living forever in an odd, floating memory.

And he’d fall asleep in her lap while she sang him Dolly. He’d sworn he hated country, but now? All little again? Head in the lap of his mama? He’d be content to hear it again, and again.

I think Eddie went back to Tennessee when he died. I think he rolled in the grass, and looked out at the mountains. I think he felt the warmth of the big summer sun on his skin, and the prickle of the grass on his feet, and heard those country records, and knew that he’d be alright if he just let go.

i’m seated.

bleeding heart brooch by michael michaud

•ST4 🎥 chapter six “The Dive.”

how i am longing for the sound of the waves and the fresh air and the taste of salt

(denmark, 2023)

this isn’t fun anymore i need a kiss

⊹ Shiny Objects PNGs ⊹ [*magpie mindset initiated*]

JOSEPH QUINN in Hoard (2023)

Rebecca Ross, Ruthless Vows