I soar in the emerald sky, amidst faint and bright stars connecting them with smoke of darkness. The world below slowly immerses into sleep and it is time for me to descend. To check on my parents, to visit my girlfriend, to breathe and to remember what was it all like?
I died two months ago, on this farm, under a starlit night like this after a fatal heart attack. My girlfriend Rose, screamed so loud that I can still hear her. They called 911; they pumped oxygen into me; they rushed to the hospital, but I was already up here, watching my lifeless body and feeling my existence, literally, out of the box. For the first time, I realized my wings, I heard my silence and I climbed into the horizon, releasing the light that was trapped in time and space, waiting like me. I became my mind, my soul, my insatiable force.
Then, I saw my parents beating fists over the silent earth. I traced every tear that strolled on their wrinkled face and morphed into a shadow of grief. I saw Rose gripping my sweater, squeezing my absence, punctuated by her faint hiccups. My new-found freedom suddenly felt like a curse. But it was too late, so I stayed here at the rooftop, watching them turning in their sleep, waking up in the middle of the night and comforting each other with a reticent assimilation.
Rose moved in with my parents two weeks ago. I am unsure why she did it. Perhaps, it was me who was afraid of the commitment. She was always in. I was reluctant to consume her in domesticity; to let our freedom burn under the weight of responsibilities; to limit our dreams within each other. I believed we had time. As I watch her, taking care of my folks, I can safely concur that I was wrong. About most things.
Today, I am outside the house, circling like an impatient guy, a lot worried, a bit happy. Wait! I hear it.! I know it is a boy! God, how I have dreaded this moment because I know Rose will be here. By my side. Leaving him. With my parents, who will raise him as they raised me, in midst of a golden farm with dangling, wooden fences poking the sky where Rose and I will be shinning together, watching them. All they have to do is to lie down, think of us and smile. In the end it will be fine. It will be alright.
Let me go and see Rose. You see, the worst is over, the best is happening.
Above in response to Write at the merge week 40, writing challenge. I picked the second picture for this prompt. the title is a quote from Dr. Seuss.