The city never afforded her body the chance to be this intimately part of creation in the way to which her eyes were now experiencing. The sun danced splashes of yellows on her skin and the light immersed her body into the landscape. Forty-two acres of earth welcomed Chelsea until her eyes were not big enough to hold all of it at one time. The sun seemed to come down from the sky to personally greet her and she felt a closeness to the heavens like never before. It was as if she could reach up to the sky and capture the wings of angels in the palms of her hands. A treasure of luminaries in a bowl of black dirt. The only sounds audible were locust and grasshoppers that leaped through the air like children playing hide and seek with the clouds and the growling motors of cars racing by. The land did not reach any homes on the right or the left for at least a mile or two nor were there any houses in front of her. Chelsea remembered feeling lonely and yet the way the trees stretched its branches wide reminded her of a mother’s embrace. Only Forrest stood across from her, a gate closed her into her grandmotherās inheritance, and community spoke like laughter beyond Saraās womb. She bent her knees and crouched closer to the ground, plucking handfuls of grass from the rich dirt. She had to touch it to make sure that it was real. How could something so beautiful be the result of something so painful? What Grandma Rose left to her would nourish generations of children and her heart ached that Nana would not be here to drink glasses of lemonade on the front porch of their country home or eat tomatoes fresh from the garden. āRoseā. She said it below a whisper and let the smile crease into her face and wrap itself around her cheeks. It had been weeks since she smiled. Nana always knew how to do just that. Amazing how she consoled her even beyond the grave. The woman let the emotion wash over her and the tears race down her face and drip from her lips. The sun bowed its final curtsy before lowering itself into sleep for the night and Chelsea cried for the last time. Her tears all courage shaped in her throat. Finally, the grief had come to an end.
Very nice. Thanks for sharing.
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You’re welcomed š.
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Beautiful…maybe it’s time I pulled head out of Fantasy/SF/Military history books.
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lol, I’m not sure I know what you mean
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Sorry, that’s the problem of replying in a hurry, when dashing to go out (one of my failings). I should have clarified that for most of my reading life (64 years old now), I’ve steadily reading SF, Fantasy, Military History ‘Bit & Pieces’ and Graphics…However reading your blog and some others I have begun to wonder if I am missing out on a whole world of thoughtful and interesting literature (in my defence I did start my wife’s copies of ‘Little Women’ and Pride & Prejudice….once….each ).
Hope that clears things up.
All the best with your writing.
Roger
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Oh! Yes, I understand :). Wow your 64? That’s such a blessing. May you have many more years to come.
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Thank you. Planning on hanging around for a while yet- so much to do
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