Jenna Calamai
Bio
Hi, I'm Jenna.
• Boone, NC • 28 • Storyteller • Mixologist •
Welcome to my modest, little collection of nonsense.
Stories (4)
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Shimmering
The only time I ever saw my father cry was when my grandmother died. The light reaching through the crack in the door to his study was bright enough to burn the memory of his quivering shoulders into my mind forever. Sometime after her funeral, when most had paid their respects and left, he took me and my little sister outside to look at the stars. Hayley was too young to fully understand what was happening, but she held my hand just the same, mimicking my father as he pointed out a cluster of stars in the sky.
By Jenna Calamai5 years ago in Motivation
Blue Paper Stars
The cold, Appalachian air rolled down the mountain, filling the valley with a frothy-white mist, so quickly, that it sloshed back up the barren, winter hills like a hastily poured bowl of milk. The mist seeped through Brennan’s gloves and into his knuckles just as fast. Resting a palm on the shovel’s rust-eaten handle and another pushing on the small of his back, He stretched and gazed into the cloud covered sky. The air smelled thick with remnants of last night’s storm, harrowed earth, and iron. Leaning an elbow on his shovel, he began massaging circles into his palms, rubbing off fragmented rust and dried blood from the deep lines in his hands. Noticing how much blood was left, he began to rub his palm feverishly, panting so hard his breath was visible in short bursts, so thick he couldn’t see his hands, so red all he could see was red, so loud all he could hear was -- until a blister popped. The sharp pain brought him back into his body and all he could do was stare at his hands, rubbed raw, pulsating in harmony with the rhythm of his heartbeat.
By Jenna Calamai5 years ago in Humans
