Somewhere, Somewhere by Giselle Gerbrecht
Somewhere a young wife is taking a photograph of the full moon through her husband’s telescope. Somewhere across the border, that husband is struggling to purchase ecstasy, his English-to-French dictionary wrinkling in his grasp. Somewhere a child sees his shadow for the first time. Somewhere there is a house where there are two photographs in every picture frame like a pentimento. Somewhere there is an infant staring with wonder into the glossy planets of her parents’ eyes. Somewhere, in a quest for honesty, a mother tells her adult children that the man they believe is their father is in fact not. Somewhere a hopeful young actress makes herself cry while thinking about spiders. Somewhere someone yells cut. Somewhere there is a man who remembers the unbelievable lightness he felt upon his mother cutting his hair in the backyard. Somewhere a woman cries for something she has lost. Somewhere an elderly man writes down the truth but can’t remember the mailing address. Somewhere a breech baby is born backward. Somewhere a couple gently kiss away one another’s tears. Somewhere an artist twists newspapers into kindling before setting fire to their life’s work. Somewhere windows look like they are opening by themselves from the street corner. Somewhere two siblings creep up to the rooftop and share their first beer. Somewhere, when no one is listening, a man yells an apology from a cliffside. Somewhere a teenager pours sugar into her father’s gas tank. Somewhere she’s never been, a pregnant woman decides she’ll name her unborn baby after that place. Somewhere a boy eavesdrops on the landline to hear his father talking with his other family. Somewhere two lovers steam up a car. Somewhere a woman skinny dips into a swimming pool with nothing on but diamonds. Somewhere an old man cries for his mother. Somewhere a father and son resort to blows on the front lawn. Somewhere the blue and red lights of the police flash into a burglarized home. Somewhere a family prays over their expired meal. Somewhere a woman is stashing crinkled dollar bills beneath her mattress because she doesn’t trust her husband. Somewhere there is an open grave in someone’s backyard. Somewhere there is a series of forgotten love letters discovered in an attic. Somewhere there are green lights all the way home. Somewhere there is a man worth nothing. Somewhere there is a person worth saving. Somewhere there is a roll of film with a photograph of the moon, just waiting to be developed.
Giselle Gerbrecht is a photographer, teacher, and writer. A proud Jersey Girl, she is intrigued by matrilineal bloodlines and the relationship between memory and pictures. She is currently at work on her debut novel. She lives in the American West, and at gisellegerbrecht.com.