“Mom, Dad… I’m sorry.”
Matt was sure that apologizing would be awful, and with the sick feeling he got in his stomach just from thinking about it, he probably wouldn’t have tried without the wind’s gentle support. He stood in the field, facing the wagon and his parents with his pulse pounding and wished he could absorb some of the wind’s confidence. Even though the air wasn’t blowing, he could feel the wind all around him. There was no horrible pressure like yesterday’s anger or even a few moments ago when it held him so sternly. This was simply a sense of presence, and with it, a feeling of warm approval.
His parents turned at his words, and he needed that comfort. He held his breath in the silence. Then, some of the stiffness in their shoulders and faces eased. Mom nodded and started to speak, still frowning. Matt winced internally at the lecture he knew was coming, but Dad shook his head, stopping it before it started. Laying a hand on Matt’s shoulder, he squeezed gently.
“Ready to learn to use that scythe?” he asked.
That simply, Matt was forgiven. Swallowing against the knot in his throat, he nodded vigorously. Following his dad into the field, Matt felt the warmth around him glow and grow. Stopping abruptly, he closed his eyes, and thought at the wind: Thank you.
Monthly Archives: March 2016
“Mom, Dad… I’m sorry.”
I checked my brain on a flight to Spain
And naively paid the fee,
But when we reached the airport,
I found myself brain-free.
The flight company waived all fault.
Insurance would not pay.
But why someone would want my brain,
I honestly cannot say.
Something I cannot (apparently) keep
Consistent: a seemingly
Doomed to fail repeatedly
Until or unless I (alone)
Learn and make an
Effort to change.
Flashes of color
Snuck between grass, leaves, and earth:
Squeals, laughter, and tears.
“Equal.” The word was said with a weight, a nuance I couldn’t interpret. He turned back slowly and considered me for a long moment. Even the silence seemed heavy.
“I am Kith.” He said it simply. As if daring me to ask for more. He didn’t realize how happy I was to get a name, let alone a race. I could search his race.
“I am pleased to meet you, Kith,” I answered just as simply. I glanced at the Light One, hoping Kith’s example would encourage him to introduce himself, too. Nope.
“What is this tax-thing you speak of? Do deathwalkers have special taxes?” Kith glanced over his shoulder again, directing the second question somewhere between me and the Teg.
“I know not. Before, he spoke of heads in a place where they are not used.” As he spoke he jerked his head back behind them to indicate the lavatories. I winced and hoped the heat in my cheeks wasn’t visible. Especially since they were both staring at me now.
“I was trying to remember the term for an old Earth practice,” I explained hurriedly. “I didn’t realize I said it out loud.” That was twice in one morning. If I wasn’t careful, they’d decide I was crazy and throw me out the airlock. From the looks on their faces, they might already be considering it. Although it was hard to tell with Kith. His expressions were beginning to remind me of Ter Dryst – how did they manage to look expressionless and incredulous at the same time?