hopeisaferriswheel

[hopeisaferriswheel]

hope is a memory that only i keep

I look through the photo booth app on my laptop like it holds the secret of the universe

I know it doesn’t

It’s just a snapshot of a day in a school that I haven’t gone to in half a decade

In a class that I thought as my family

I don’t speak to anybody in that class anymore

For some, it’s just the natural progression of time and distance

(And quarantine)

For others, we are no longer friends

There are filters on the photos

There are no filters on the photos

I see my class, seated exactly as I remember in my memory

(This is not hard to remember. We sat in the same seats for three years.)

Everyone is visible

(I always sat in the first row)

My hair, a third its current length and dyed purple

My face is not in these photos

I wanted to capture my friends, not myself

I wanted to remember the moment as I saw it

The moment that only exists in the memory of my laptop

(I think of the times my laptop was water damaged)

None of my friends are holding devices in the photos

Who is there to remember this random day in 10th grade

We graduate from college in four months

I wonder if they would respond if I were to ask

[hopeisaferriswheel]

hope is ice cream in january

I take my sister to Bruster’s in the 35 degree cold. We’re both shivering and giggling - who would be so insane for ice cream on the fourth day of the year, when the cold wind bites and the sun sets at 5 pm.

It’s the last Saturday before school starts. I want her to remember this.

I take my sister out for dinner at Moes. We don’t talk.

I ask her if she still has Instagram screentime left.

(I asked my mom to set screen time limits on both of our phones months ago)

She doesn’t.

I pull out my phone and we scroll through the siblings or dating account.

I want her to have fun.

We finish eating.

We walk to the car.

She’s already looking at her phone.

I think of my childhood, with my two brothers.

I think of the picture saved onto my phone, my parents’ phones, my brothers’ phones, my sister’s phone.

(My brothers and I are still in carseats, crammed all three in the back row)

(It’s the middle of summer)

(There is a Bruster’s cup in each of our hands)

(There is ice cream on our faces and we are caught mid laugh)

There are no photos of my sister laughing with ice cream in her hand surrounded by her siblings.

Her siblings have not been home to eat ice cream in years.

I am graduating from college in a few months. She is in her second year of middle school.

“Do you want ice cream?”

I stop before we reach the car.

The wind is whipping our hair around.

(Freshly cut yesterday, the new year is coming up)

She looks at me questioningly.

(We are both only wearing a hoodie)

(The cold air feels like it’s blowing directly on our skin)

“If you want some”

Her reply isn’t a no

I drive us to Bruster’s.

I sing to all the songs she’s queued for the car ride.

For the first time, she sings along too.