Considering one thing and another, I have always been sure I could not possibly be related to Those People who raised me. And who, in theory, birthed me.
Sadly, there was always one problem from which I could never escape.
I look just like them. Both parents. They didn’t look alike, so how could this be? Apparently, you change as you age. So you can look exactly like dad when you’re three, but exactly like mom when you’re sixty. Periodically, depending on how the genetic package rolls, like one or the other — or both — at any given point in time. I used to look like my father, but I got older. Now, look like my mother.
I wonder if I’ll ever look like me? Whatever that means.
I know nothing about what brought me into the world any more than I know what will take me out. Probably, that’s just as well. I think I lack a kind of curiosity about my fate others apparently have. I never felt any serious need to research my ancestry or get my DNA checked. What was, is finished. What will be, is not in my hands. I am okay enjoying as much of the now as I can while it’s still available.
Every now and again, I wonder if it is possible that I was actually put here by a passing star craft. An intergalactic seed dropped from the sky that somehow, wound up in this world. With those parents. In this peculiar place. A bit of pollen falling from a drifting craft on its way to somewhere in an infinite beyond.
It could be true.
A new prompt. Just what you needed, right? I’m calling this prompt “Storytime.” Each week I will ask you to tell a story about a specific topic. You can write about the actual event as it happened in real life — or you can create a fictional version of the event. It’s your call.
Once you publish your post, create a pingback to this post, or paste a link to your post in a reply if you’re not on WordPress. To get the ball rolling, I’ll go first. Have fun!