When I untied my heartstrings,
Better Judgement snarled. “Why?”
I answered: “Because it needed to soar.”
“Blue skins aren’t allowed on Station 3,” the terminal conductor repeated with some annoyance.
Her father waved a holo display in the conductor’s face. “Would you look at the papers. She’s a legal citizen and has the same rights as—”
“I don’t care what it is. Letting that thing on the transport will only cause problems with the other passengers.” The conductor slammed the transports’ doors and fired up the engines, leaving the two of them alone on the space bridge dock.
“Your species is filled with assholes,” Jamie finally said, interrupting the silence.
Her father chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.”
Your words are
More valuable to me
Than precious gems
Than life-giving air
Imagine, if you will,
What would happen
If you used them
To destroy me
We’re all waiting to die.
I learned that truth at a young age and hoped Death would save me from the minutiae of life. When he didn’t—if Death was indeed a he—I got desperate and figured I’d force his arrival. I remember sitting in my room holding my father’s gun to my head, the cold barrel digging into my temple. A twisted smile plastered on my face. I felt as if I was a lover waiting for my date to arrive, but the bastard stood me up.
A Lost Soul, darkened by troubles,
Handed an Angel a set of worn cards
With ragged, trembling hands.
The Lost Soul tried to speak
But years of torment–
No doubt by the cards–
Made speech difficult.
Filled with pity, the Angel
Leaned down and said:
“Speak. I will listen.”
“Gracious One,” the Soul whispered.
“If it’s not too much trouble,
Can you put these back
And deal me new ones?”
Photo by Amisha Nakhwa
Deafening white noise
Away from society,
Wash my thoughts away.
Photo by Ravi Pinisetti
Rolling hills nestled
Under a verdant blanket
Speckled with fresh dew,
Shimmering in Heaven’s Light
Just breaching the horizon. Continue reading “Morning in the Fields”
She lay rain-soaked on the cold pavement. Her eyes fixated on the gray clouds overhead as a paramedic pumped stale air into her lungs. She inhaled, but her lungs refused to contract.
I’m going to die, she thought. Yet, her body continued its futile fight for survival.
Then the blaring sirens, roaring rain, screaming paramedic, and her laboring breaths dimmed as if someone had turned the volume down on her life.
It was just her and the paramedic in the rain, but she could feel another presence. A safe presence.
Something warm caressed her cheek. “Rest, child,” a voice whispered. “Rest.”