Michelle Morton
Stories (1/0)
A Safe Place
The song of the morning is the birds’ tune carried by the soft wind, keeping time with the church’s bells. It seems to lighten the sky itself by churning a fluffy pinkish orange to a solid daydream blue. Floating music notes seem to sneak into the ears of my lethargic body, and I’m not ready to remove the soft blankets from the skin they’ve been tightly wrapped around. I want to stay in bed and listen to the birds sing to the angels. But the sun becomes less shy as she replaces her lover in the sky, her rays pop out of her shell slowly as if someone is taking their time to crack open the atmosphere. Their tough fingers pressed against the night sky as they split the deep blackness in two, popping stars like balloons and unbraiding constellations. Brighter colors washing over their fingers and dripping down the sky until the sun's light is bursting through the deep blue canvas. The rays warm the concrete and make it too hot for bare feet but warms the air just enough for cold lemonade. How could I stay in bed instead of going out to appreciate such a beautiful day, God has blessed me and allowed me to witness His mother earth. Plus I had plans with Esmerelda, whose skin was probably already itching from the grass in her lawn as she watched butterflies leap from flower to flower. She wouldn’t pay homage or thank God for today, she’d thank the universe or something else. I could never understand, my family thanks God for everything (so does hers). My family talks of God and Heaven so often it sometimes seems like we’re already there. Light always shines through our windows and bounces off the white walls and hand painted pictures of a black Jesus, the gospel Mama plays makes it feel like I’m just outside those golden gates.
By Michelle Morton2 years ago in Fiction