Dragonfly – Sam Pink
October 25, 2022
My brother was changing his son’s diaper down the hall as I stared out the living-room window.
We were going for a walk.
A sine wave version of ‘Where the Buffalo Roam’ played from a toy and my brother prompted my nephew to finish some of the lines, which he did in a soft singsong.
He was talking a lot now.
All afternoon, he’d shown me around the house.
He’d shown me his cars, holding them up and telling me what color they were.
He’d shown me his helicopter.
Showed me all his vehicles and knew what they were and what they did.
Showed me an exhaustive list of places where he’d seen spiders in the basement, including some information which I believe to be totally fabricated.
We played basketball on a small hoop.
We built towers with blocks and knocked them over.
‘Alright lemme put your pants on,’ my brother said, as my nephew started fighting.
‘Where the Buffalo Roam’ played its last note.
We went for a walk.
It was cloudless and sunny.
We headed towards the park.
On the way there, my nephew saw someone cutting their lawn.
‘Momo,’ he said, pointing.
‘He loves lawnmowers,’ said my brother. ‘Really into weedwhackers now too.’
At the park we found a baseball and took turns throwing it at a fence.
Then we threw sticks at the fence.
We went on the jungle gym for a while and I pushed my nephew on the swing.
Eventually my brother said, ‘Alright, let’s go, I’m sweating my nuts off.’
We started back towards home.
My nephew was lagging so my brother carried him on his shoulders.
We passed a cemetery.
A dragonfly landed on a gravestone near the sidewalk.
The epitaph read, ‘Samantha Hayward, May 6, 2014-June 14, 2014.’
There were fresh flowers.
My brother said, ‘Ready?’ and my nephew said, ‘Ok’ and my brother faked falling backwards, holding him by the ankles.
My nephew laughed and said, ‘Again.’