Fireball Sun

The fireball sun recalled orange-slice smiles and puddle stained skirts from the day’s careless frolics.

She was unconcerned with the passage of time, painted with mud splashes and oblivious even to the dinner bell, and her day’s accomplishments included garland crowns for her sisters and a mud tunnel nearly halfway to China.

She didn’t know; maybe she wouldn’t have to. But the years take her anyway, in a pirouette from the dark curtain, with tinny violin strings…sleepovers…campfires and marshmallows on sticks…notes passed in secret…the highest cage on the spinning ride where his hand on her knee made her forget the sick feeling inside of her…the click of two-inch heels across the auditorium stage…and a champagne toast to the bride and groom.

A snowman that melted into years of childbirth and nine-to-five; tiny feet that ran swiftly through their own childhoods, closing the door behind them, only to return as the seasons beckoned, as the wind blew in gusts of celebration and sorrow, as souls were reclaimed by the heavens.

The sun set softly this time, a gentle orange that faded to the darkness of night as her eyes closed for her last earthly sleep. She couldn’t have known, but perhaps she did.

About 1maniac1989

From childhood, I have wanted to care for children, to bake cookies, cakes, and bread, to hear music, and to tend to my garden and my chickens. I am blessed and lucky to be able to do all of these things. I live with my beloved husband, Dan, and our many precious children on a farmette in DeKalb, IL, which, perhaps in my opinion only, is the most beautiful place on earth. Sincere thanks to anyone who has taken the time to visit my blog, to read my books, or to support my writing adventure in any way.

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