The following, as most of my ramblings is based on a true story, the embellishments are all mine as well, although it is not intended to count as short fiction.
I was going back home after a long day at work. Though I must not make boast of my little vices, I was all over the place, with phone and radio and thoughts for the weekend while trying to keep alert for that space of consciousness that will spare me half a second to react to road peril.
Somewhere between making an overnight deposit and assuring myself via Flixter that Clash of the Titans was not set for this week's release, something made me wind down and slow my steady 65 mph pace.
Thinking back, I shouldn't have been as distracted as I was by what I saw, after all, I live in a place called Land O' Lakes. There's bodies of water everywhere. Bodies of water and patches of wild.Even in a matter of 24 hours when it rains as hard and as long as it did yesterday, a simple puddle will be exalted, you know, cause puddles dream too.
Anyhoo, as I said there was a vast, extension of water that was not there yesterday, right in front of a construction site. There she stood, completely out of place, walking betwen the still waters and discarded timber and trash. She was no more than a girl , eighteen to early twenties perhaps. I cannot say wheter or not she was beautiful because I could not see her face. She was thin and tall and her hair was long and straight and dusty blond. Although I didnt get to see them, I bet her eyes were cold and blue.
I tried to concentrate on her, blocking both the traffic and Michael Hutchence, dead and gone for over ten years who was trying to tell me that we all have wings but some of us just don't know why, and as everything flashed before me: people and song and patch of wild and long haired girl holding to her long sleeve black sweater as to dear life, it crossed my mind that I was not seeing someone, but something.
As a matter of seconds, as she moved the sky went from weak blue to gray, to silver streaked purple, I held my breath with the unmistaken feeling that I was in the presence of something that is bigger than I. It happens like that with me, and I know God forgives me when sometimes I become a little pagan and I sing a little song to the wind and the long, cold, starry nights.
The DJ mentioned not to forget to spring forward tonite, he whined a scripted grievance about loosing an hour of sleep and announced the next song. And I said, thanks, and I'll see you next year, in the meantime, your younger sibling will come, and take your place and bring light and life to us all...
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