Jack
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Jun 16, 2016
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Fiction
Romance
000 he was invisible for the first fifteen years. he was nonexistent, almost. he was just a thought somewhere in the back of my mind, the thought that i only occasionally visited when i was in primary and my mum would muse and urge me to go play with that 'funny boy next door.' but i didn't want to get tangled up with him. he seemed like the kind of kid that would throw a tantrum if his mum refused to buy the 'good cereal' , right in the middle of the grocery store. we were just neighbours for those first fifteen years. we gave each other plates of Christmas cookies when it was expected, and both flushed when we were forced to sing Christmas carols to each other. it was a mutual decision, to not engage with the other. but then he decided that being my neighbour wasn't enough. i still remember what he was wearing, and what he smelled like. he smelled like downy laundry detergent, the one with lilacs on the bottle. and he smelled like me, faintly of my perfume. he smelled like peaches. i remember his last words to me. i remember that he loved to laugh at elephant jokes, his favourite smell was cigarette smoke, and his favourite type of gum was spearmint. i remember that he hated ketchup, and the taste of my blueberry flavoured lipgloss. but most of all i remember that he was good at lying. jack sterling was a religious liar.
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I grew up surrounded by colorful characters, dogs that marked my life, unforgettable loved ones, and stories that even a screenwriter wouldn't have dared to write. Between punishments in high school, legal proceedings, unexpected travels, scams (sometimes unintentional), and unexpected encounters... I've seen it all. And more importantly, I've lived it all. Why write all this? Because we forget quickly. Because there are memories we shouldn't let slip away. Because laughing at your past is also a way to heal. And maybe, to make someone else laugh or think along the way. My childhood? A mix of laughter, dogs like no other, and situations crazier than the next. From my father's dog who went on an unexpected journey, to Kiki, our fennec fox capable of leaving a lasting impression. Between absurd punishments in high school, prison threats over a discarded sheet of paper, and my father being pursued by the Paris court, my life has been anything but boring. And if you want to know how Vicenzo sold his dog six times, or why a friend of mine was gifted a brand new Renault by the Spanish customs officers... welcome to my wildest memories. So welcome to my life. Or rather, the joyful mess it has been (and maybe still is). Happy reading - and buckle up.

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