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Description
Life and Death in Spring

Rhine woke to a tepid breeze rattling her bedroom windows, it was an odd day for the middle of May; the first thought going through her waking mind was that she was supposed to walk in the ravine with Marie and Paul at 9. That familiar feeling of panic she always got when she had a deep sleep had her reaching for her phone to check the time. 7:13am. It was the weekend, and here she was awake like she was heading for work. Panic was swallowed by grumbling disgust. Oh joyous weekend.

“So, how’s the old man?” Marie asked her, her mouth curling up at the sides in a way that always reminded Rhine of a cat and yet also a tortoise because of the way she had a slight bob to her head. Marie was a friend she’d met through the nursery her dad now ran.
“He’s actually picked himself up since a few months ago. I mean, it’s gonna take a while before he can get things flourishing and green like mom used to have it, but I don’t know…” She wanted to believe that this was it for him, that things could finally move on. Marie eyed her, reading what she didn’t say.
“Well, if he ever needs motivation we can always clear out the old wood and sell some decent firewood.” Paul ended with a laugh that had Marie flaring her nostrils.
“You so funny.”
“Thank you, I try.” He had enough audacity to pat Marie’s head before laughing again and darting ahead of the two.
“We don’t even have plants that are wood-based. The Aloe rows are coming back really nicely. I don’t get why you’d want siblings Rhine. Trust me, they’re so annoying.”
Rhine shrugged. She sometimes thought that it’d be nice to share things with a brother or sister. “I don’t know. It seems lively.”
“Oh it’s lively alright. Dunno about the lovely part though. That’s good, about your dad. Gives you a bit more time to focus on your life, huh?”

And it had, in a tremendous way. Rhine had finally been able to spend her evenings actually writing songs -- not that they were any good yet but, she didn’t have to worry about coming home and finding him passed out on the couch, the sour stale rankness of beer clinging to her livingroom walls. It was as if he’d transformed like some sort of ancient phoenix in a blaze and she didn’t want to quite believe just yet, that her world would correct in it’s rotation. She stared at his boots, one upright and the partner on its side on the rug. Maybe, they could both learn to live without mom.
“Rhine?” A surge of almost-fright, and slight joy. He was awake.
“Yeah?” She pulled off her boots and padded into the kitchen. It was clear, no 6-pack plastics to catch on her feet. It was clean.
“I’m thinking of doing a bit of work on the east windows of the nursery tomorrow morning.” A stretched silence, toffee-like and so, so vaguely familiar.
“Okay.”
He nodded from his perch on one of the kitchen stools. There were two cups on the counter, and a teapot.
“Do you...need some help? I have a jam with Marie til about 11 or so.” Grey eyes met grey.
“Thanks, I think that will be great.”

She sat on the edge of her bed, guitar cradled between thigh and shoulder, much less disgusted now that the day had unfolded to be high on the upside of things. She was just about to play away the rest of the evening when she heard the TV shut off. She thought for a minute, then picked up her Gibson and headed for the living room.
“Can I play down here?”

Description
Life and Death in Spring

Rhine woke to a tepid breeze rattling her bedroom windows, it was an odd day for the middle of May; the first thought going through her waking mind was that she was supposed to walk in the ravine with Marie and Paul at 9. That familiar feeling of panic she always got when she had a deep sleep had her reaching for her phone to check the time. 7:13am. It was the weekend, and here she was awake like she was heading for work. Panic was swallowed by grumbling disgust. Oh joyous weekend.

“So, how’s the old man?” Marie asked her, her mouth curling up at the sides in a way that always reminded Rhine of a cat and yet also a tortoise because of the way she had a slight bob to her head. Marie was a friend she’d met through the nursery her dad now ran.
“He’s actually picked himself up since a few months ago. I mean, it’s gonna take a while before he can get things flourishing and green like mom used to have it, but I don’t know…” She wanted to believe that this was it for him, that things could finally move on. Marie eyed her, reading what she didn’t say.
“Well, if he ever needs motivation we can always clear out the old wood and sell some decent firewood.” Paul ended with a laugh that had Marie flaring her nostrils.
“You so funny.”
“Thank you, I try.” He had enough audacity to pat Marie’s head before laughing again and darting ahead of the two.
“We don’t even have plants that are wood-based. The Aloe rows are coming back really nicely. I don’t get why you’d want siblings Rhine. Trust me, they’re so annoying.”
Rhine shrugged. She sometimes thought that it’d be nice to share things with a brother or sister. “I don’t know. It seems lively.”
“Oh it’s lively alright. Dunno about the lovely part though. That’s good, about your dad. Gives you a bit more time to focus on your life, huh?”

And it had, in a tremendous way. Rhine had finally been able to spend her evenings actually writing songs -- not that they were any good yet but, she didn’t have to worry about coming home and finding him passed out on the couch, the sour stale rankness of beer clinging to her livingroom walls. It was as if he’d transformed like some sort of ancient phoenix in a blaze and she didn’t want to quite believe just yet, that her world would correct in it’s rotation. She stared at his boots, one upright and the partner on its side on the rug. Maybe, they could both learn to live without mom.
“Rhine?” A surge of almost-fright, and slight joy. He was awake.
“Yeah?” She pulled off her boots and padded into the kitchen. It was clear, no 6-pack plastics to catch on her feet. It was clean.
“I’m thinking of doing a bit of work on the east windows of the nursery tomorrow morning.” A stretched silence, toffee-like and so, so vaguely familiar.
“Okay.”
He nodded from his perch on one of the kitchen stools. There were two cups on the counter, and a teapot.
“Do you...need some help? I have a jam with Marie til about 11 or so.” Grey eyes met grey.
“Thanks, I think that will be great.”

She sat on the edge of her bed, guitar cradled between thigh and shoulder, much less disgusted now that the day had unfolded to be high on the upside of things. She was just about to play away the rest of the evening when she heard the TV shut off. She thought for a minute, then picked up her Gibson and headed for the living room.
“Can I play down here?”