Prompt Author: Kate Inglis
The Dead Crew
My cotton tank is clinging to my back- it's one of those muggy midwest summer nights where the air is so thick you think it might just choke you.
Really it's morning, 2am, and strands of hair are stuck to my face, adhered with salty tears and sweat. I'm sitting on the back porch steps; I just needed to get outside so I could cry freely.
It is silent except for the occasional gasps of air I need to keep going. I don't think anything is going to make this hurt in my heart go away; it feels heavy, deep, damaged. The tears won't stop, and I have no tissue. It's just me and the crickets.
Just then, out of nowhere, a small gust of wind carries a lone honeysuckle flower and gently lands the small blossom into my open, bare and outstretched hands.
There is a pause and slowly, profoundly, my heart begins to open up and soften.
I feel relief. And I know everything is going to be okay.
*This happened when I was sixteen. I managed to keep that honeysuckle blossom with me for fifteen years until it got lost in one of my many moves in life. At first, I was broken apart by the loss until I realized that I will have the memory, and the story, and the feeling, of that night forever.
this post a part of Reverb10: Reverb 10 is an annual event and online initiative to reflect on your year and manifest what’s next. Use the end of your year as an opportunity to reflect on what's happened, and to send out reverberations for the year ahead.