Pieces of Skye

we all travel upon a trajectory.  marked by an invisible thread of circumstance binding us one to another we become entwined in the human experience...tethering us to life itself. And the courses we steer are ever changing by the smallest most insignificant things effecting us in the most monumental of ways. We are forever altered by every life that bumps up against ours. And everyone we touch even briefly settles into a part of our experience... becoming a part of us. And so it is with this truth that I set forth to recognize a great gift...perhaps she was sent by the Literary Gods an allegorical messiah sent to save me from the burning hell of complacency. I knew nothing about her, really... I mean I knew the stupid stuff about her. The kind of stuff you can know about someone that says absolutely nothing about who they are. I knew she was mentally ill with a sea of ghosts swarming about her every time I saw her but had no idea how it all came to be. I would watch her everyday from my balcony as she set out on her mysterious walkabouts, her sandals clicking smartly against the pavement, her purse tucked under an arm or swinging lazily off her shoulder sometimes it was a green bag other times an orange one but it was always there. Like a constant extension of herself. I liked to imagine the bag was full of whatever it was she wrestled with... scattered trinkets from the ghosts that so visibly haunted her for more often than not she could be seen and heard screaming obscenities to the entire world as she walked by but always flashing her eyes my way with a broad smile and the sweetest voice in answer to my daily greetings...its safe to say I liked her from the start for she truly was the personification of her name "a billion shades of blue and wide open her soul pockmarked with clouds some carefree billowy and white  while others were stormy and dark.  I thought she was beautiful in every way for she owned every step she took and she occupied all of her spaces without apology and with a boldness unrivaled... as if she were trying to break through some invisible membrane separating her from the world around her...as if she were punching her way into life itself. And it was within those peculiar laws of momentum that sent her life careening into mine. I don't know why it is that some people affect us more than others how one might know another for only a few moments and yet find within that equation a bond outweighing lifelong friendships. I like to think that every life crossed has some reason for doing so and that somehow we manage to make more sense of ourselves within that wake. And surely there must be some sort of exchange that takes place... bold steps for my timid ones and the timeless knowing that I have the right to occupy all of my spaces and perhaps even a small slice of obscenities screamed out into the world for my daily injustice Perhaps it is those small pieces she brings to me with every chance encounter every "corner crosswalked connection" she presents me with pieces of Skye sometimes sweet and blue and sometimes a bleeding sky scarred violently by the setting sun but always ageless and beautiful and not easily forgotten. Her moments are leftover imprints upon my page...she is my poem

~DannyLynne~

Reviews

[roarke]

This is a difficult write to handle with crystal clear lucidity. If you wrote this in one draft, it's doubly amazing.

It's the kind of piece one likes to read because it all fits so flawlessly together, no stumbling over words or phrases. Clear. Meaningful. Brava

[Riverz]

2 reviews in 4 days, and made the popular reading list ?

this thing isn't rigged at all, is it ..

[Everett DeValle]

A very good story, Danny...I was touched by it...made me reflect on why I write. Kudos.