Friday was the first time in a long while that Ade saw stars in the sky. Not many, mind you. He’d lived in Arizona most of his life and before that was too young to know where he was or what those lights in the sky even meant. His father had seen stars, told him about them and how they stretched across the night like a twinkling blanket. His father had told him stories about how people once believed the stars were Gods looking down upon the planet and smiling. Not all of them were smiling, some were angry at the people they saw, others were merely disappointed. His father used to have stories like that all of the time.
When Ade looked up into the sky that early morning the first thing he saw was a messy sheet of clouds that rose up from the horizon like spilled ink. The rest of the sky was lighter behind them, and above them were three stars. It took him a while to find the others, but well told shapes were all there. He saw the big dipper, he saw one star off on its own as bright as could be. It was the North Star, he supposed. He’d never quite seen it before. He rarely looked up at night. Yet this very early morning while the sun was still just a rumor, he did this that as he listened to the distant sound of cars moving on the streets. He sat on his roof, and he looked up.
Some Thoughts:
- Like taking the plastic wrap off stuff you stored away. I used to be good at this sort of thing. It wasn’t a thing I thought about as much as simply did. That is the nature of a freewrite. It is about accessing what is happening in your mind and letting it flow. That flow is a bit rust clogged right now, but I’m getting there…