We were so grateful the sun finally began dipping behind the mountain range. The heat dissipated some even though it cast a hazy, burnt atmosphere around us. The clouds above us spread out an undulating, wavy pattern. Wrestling coyotes, wrangling with wild horses, evading snakes – what a daymare this had been!
As we lay on the riverbank, after escaping all those perils, we realized what a predicament this had become. Exhaustion was quickly setting in alongside the fear. Making matters even worse; all our gear and supplies had floated away. The situation had become life or death. What a nightmare.
The spray tan had transferred to the wrap I was wearing. It had stained the material right below the scar on my chest where I had tied it. Oh well. Regardless, I still shimmy just fine as I turn the corner, walking sexy-like towards the lift.
I decided to call my mother at dawn. She had a fit when I told her about the stain. Hope she doesn’t try to choke me when I get home. She was evil like that. I call her a sham mom because real moms wouldn’t shellout beatings on their kids as she does.
I needed my fix. The streets, crowded as ever, hummed of the usual pace of shuffling humans. Their faces gray and nondescript, matching the concrete of the city streets and buildings. I turned and crossed the street towards Central Park, hastening my stride.
“Ah, some green,” I uttered to myself as I approached the well-kept parcels of grass on either side of the walking paths. Even the air quality whooshed into my lungs more decently than breathing in a couple of blocks back. I was almost there.
“You wouldn’t believe my day!” I shouted when I spied my Zen buddy.
This night, cold and icy. I gaze at the huge, gorgeous orb and the shadows it casts around my castle, feeling goosebumps and serenity. Odd how I can feel excitement and ease at the same time. I watch as my breath adds a layer of fog to my vision.
But it’s too frigid out here. This selenophile must go back now. The only warmth I’m feeling is the slight glow from my staff. Serves me right if I freeze to death trying to see the moon from this vantage point.
Good night, lovely moon! Let’s meet again in the summer.
The sun is starting to slip below the clouds — another day at its end.
I glance out my window.
All I see is peace. And the balloon wavering silently.
All I hear is the wind and my thoughts.
After a long day, I’m grateful to have found my way back home to the sky. Away from the rat race.
This wooden refuge does connect me, but I am far above all the noises and struggles from down below.
The clouds nestle me and silence the stress and hectic of the world.
And I’m calm again.
Cindy whispered to her antique doll, Abigail, in her lap. Careful not to muss her up too much, she delicately arranged her position. While her mother cooked, the child nodded her head as she turned in her direction.
“Mama, when did Grandma Francis give you Abigail?” referring to her favorite doll.
“Let me think. I was probably about four years old just like you. My mom told me that her mother had gotten Abigail when she was four years old as well. Why do you ask?” Cindy’s mother replied.
“Oh, Abigail said Victoria owned her first. Do I know her?”
I know you want your dreams to come true, have your happiness magnified and gain comfort as a result. Let me be the first to say – hope you’ll be the first to achieve it.
So let me wish you a marriage as tumultuous as a 3 am trot to the bathroom – predictable and uneventful. And may you have a sex life as exciting as being the survivor of slasher movies – adrenaline surging and you come out on top.
Good luck, good love and let’s hope karma is bullshit.