IMITATION: a literary work designed to reproduce the style of another author
I am from homemade Halloween costumes, hair scrunchies, Tang, Tab, and blue milk slightly past its expiration date.
I am from a suburban split level with the owner’s longing for country living evident in the barn inspired color scheme. Mind the front steps, they wiggle from one too many stomps as The Cowboy left in anger.
I am from dandelions and forget-me-nots lovingly harvested and displayed in mason jar vases with the same fanfare as the neighbor’s roses and dahlias.
I am from Thanksgiving confessions, and alcohol confrontations.
From Carney, Montague and Montgomery; from first names used for baptisms then stored away until the next legal form.
I am from lies told to make a better story and truths withheld to keep the peace. From “Do what I say, not what I do” and “Hate the sin but love the sinner.”
I lived through the pendulum of religious fervor swinging from kneeling benches and Latin homilies to raised hands, foreign tongues and the casting out of demons. I passed through all the pews in between until I landed in a still meadow with a songbird choir.
I’m the combustible combination of Ireland and Scotland; fueled by potato starch and heavy pours.
I’m from brothers who staged my kidnapping when I was young and walked me down the aisle when I was grown. I’m from a father haunted by the ghosts of war. Prone to strike upon waking, he is best brought out of slumber by a shoe thrown from a distance.
I am from a family that chooses moments not mementos to pass on as a legacy to future generations.
I move nimbly through this earth with little to pack but much to carry.
If you want to try this (and I hope you do), here is the TEMPLATE.