Waking up, where am I? No lights, dark, eyes need to adjust. Gotta get some light. Swinging my feet from the comfort of billowed quilts, I find the floor cold and uninviting. Standing, I feel out of place, hands outstretched, groping, grasping for the light. Shuffling my feet, one bold step to reach my goal, but stopped by a jolting pain…. my toe, I believe it broke, going sideways with a pop. With faltering steps now quickened by anger and pain, an intoxicating brew, I press forward, “Where is that damn light?” Determination slowly replaced pain, I’ll find that light. Thump! Stars, a bright flash, dark again. That bump on my head is crazily thumping, a cry of pain, actually a shout of agony, as my head and toe joined in a chorus, pain accompanied by my own thoughts of “stupid, stupid, damn where’s that light?” Tripping, I slap at the air which becomes a wall at half arch, then the wall becomes a switch and, sweet luck, my awkward and painful search had uncovered the light…now with full knowledge of my surroundings, I without injury, find the warmth of my bed, its comfort made all the sweeter by having found the light.
I carry my chain with me where ever I go. It’s a pretty chain. At least everyone thinks it should be. I take it in my hands and play with it unconsciously. I catch myself looking at it when I pass a mirror, or in a reflection on the glass. At times it chokes me, when I sleep it tangles itself around my neck and irritates me. I’m worried it will break and I’ll lose it, or someone will want it more than me and take it from me. I’ve had this chain for many years. I’d give it away, but I thought I’d miss having it. It scared me to think of the loss I would feel, not being able to play with it, or for it to catch my eye. I don’t think a new chain would be as good, after all, how can you replace the years I’ve invested in taking care of this one? I’ll probably die with it after all….
I can feel the sunshine on my skin,
You said, “My baby wanted to know what it would be like to fly.”