In front of the blue dyed siding I sit. A static hum drapes over the seemingly peaceful household. My legs have ceased to exist, limbs no longer have any feeling, and only when I bare my teeth to lift them do they reward me with a slight tingling sensation. Succumbing to defeat I fall on the grass beneath me. My skin prickles with the sudden touch as I close my eyes to embrace the warm colors of rising night. Beside my humble form, living statues fade into the background. Losing the bright shades that day had lent them. Majestic brambles become silhouetted against the darkening light.
Behind me, the leaves that had once danced over my head to the wind’s harmonic melodies now lay on the warm earth, crinkling and shriveling from a flame’s angry touch. Their burning flesh wafts through my inflamed nostrils though I feel like I am distances away. Their warm scents remind me of apple pie. The normal reward for the fallen’s execution.
The idea, the mere thought of the scrumptious treat makes my mouth water with envy. Sweet cinnamon would fill like sand, and a warm silky apple would satisfy my hunger, but leave me gluttonous for more. Soft, pliable bread would steam through vents and release a silent calling.
A cat’s meow drags me by my uncontrolled hair into reality once again. My mind easily wonders. The animal’s ample figure races across the crumbling road with ease.
My lashes steal away from the base of my eye, opening the world to a green iris colored scope to watch the setting sun. Hues of pinks and oranges splay around it like child fingers, and the darker tones of dusk invade clumsily. I find myself laughing.
The sudden alarm of cricket chirps and calling birds retrieve my mother from the back porch, the door closing gently behind her while it creaks quietly with age. She no longer likes to watch night’s euphoric entrance. Stars over head sprinkle across the growing shadows, using faded wishes as seeking eyes.