Sunday, March 24, 2019
This week's writing prompt comes from The Sunday Whirl
I don't often use their prompt because it comes up on Sunday, and I want to present my stories on Sunday mornings, however the words lead me to add a bit to my novel. I write from imagination, but this is a feeling I know well... enjoy
Audie looked out the kitchen window while washing up the prep bowls from the casserole she put in the oven. It had an hour, so she had an hour.
Funny thing about time... we all have 24 hours in a day, some of them are free and some of them are spoken for, and sometimes we feel we've been given an extra one to play with.
The sky was turning that late afternoon kind of golden color.
There was an alchemy, a seemingly magical process of transformation, about it.
It looks different from all the other times of day, and somehow feels quieter, and slower than all the others. The birds knew it would be dark soon, and they were quieter too, but still chatted to each other from tree to tree. Their bird whispers were kind of soothing like the background music she played while painting.
She knew the sky would start a color show in a few minutes, so she fixed herself a glass of iced tea and threw in a sprig of mint, and decided this free hour was hers. She would not waste it inside, or miss the cloud show. She felt the pull of emotion more at this time of day, not that she understood it totally. Her heart seemed to swell with feelings of meaning and some undefinable need that she didn't feel during the day. There was a sort of longing, and meaning just beyond her grasp, that she knew was important to feel even if she didn't understand it.
This time of day, she often felt like singing the old song, "down in the valley" (listen) to herself, as she sat on the back stoop. The sky began to pink-up... pink and lavender peppered the blueness, blending, swirling in a dance to entice the moon out. "Come, dance with us... ", they seemed to say. Colors mixed, as she turned off thoughts of the day, with their mixed demands to take action or wait. A person didn't always know whether to make plans or live life in the now.
Now. This is too important a moment to waste, her spirit begged. Chill out, in the growing chill of the air. Feel the air, smell the jasmine on the vine, listen to the quiet and hear it, look at the mix of colors as they change against the backdrop of the sky. Let your heart rejoice. This moment and it's feeling will pass in another moment... and you must not miss it.
She noticed the moon now, glowing white through the cloudy sky colors. Not the super moon, no, now it was a quiet moon but it was there. It shone and glowed whether humans looked up or not. It did it's thing, always changing to our eyes, yet steadfastly always there the same. It did not depend on petty human actions to continue on it's path. It didn't care about our disagreements or stress or the sting of tears at some slight we felt.
It shone on all creatures here, the same warm caring glow on deer as they quietly fed, on children catching fireflies in the evening, on babies and oldsters, on bugs and on trees.
The darkness surprised her with a tap on her shoulder. It had sneaked up on her from in front. It was slow and quiet, the night, almost unnoticeable in it's stealth. Her tea was gone but she didn't really remember drinking it. A breeze tickled the baby hair around her ear. An owl hooted from the distance.
Oh no, she thought, the moment is almost over... her favorite time of day.
Time, like the moon, always there, always there. But like the moon, it changed in it's own way, and how we perceived it. Now it was pulling her thoughts... she didn't want to hear the timer's shrill noise in this quiet, so she must rise to turn it off in a minute.
Just one more minute.