It was 1946. The sun was shining and my toe felt the radiance. The passage of time was long since my feet had seen a Summer. My eyes looked dreary. But inside, I knew there was a tiny glow. Like when a camp fire goes out. Everyone else is asleep and doesn’t notice. You do though, you wait and watch and take little wagers on which ember will endure the last flame before transforming into smoke, perhaps only I wanted to see? But His ember, it would never turn to ash. It was getting brighter. As I looked up, I thought perhaps my pupils are very tiny and there was nothing but blue. As soon as I noticed, a cloud appeared. “You would, Allah.” And I laughed. I wouldn’t say it was a deep breath. It felt like the front of my mid-section was vertical strings and a new kind of soft fiber glass keeping them upright, But it was still a breath. I was alive. I am still alive.
Some of my earlier work.
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