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If My Wings Would Let Me Fly
Musings
I’m the only one in my family without glasses. Or maybe, I should clarify. I’m the only one who doesn’t need glasses. My little sister, too, is without glasses because she chooses not to put them on.
But she is in dire need of the glasses, according to her optometrist and the DMV. They’d work so much better if she wore them.
I would chide my sister about her glasses, but I haven’t even been to a regular doctor consistently in years. Those in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, according to Geoffrey Chaucer, and according to me.
So I leave her glasses alone. Terca, that one. I am the Taurus sister but she and I are equally stubborn.
It is New Year’s Eve and I am willfully drinking expensive coffee in a Starbucks booth. Not because I agree with the politics of the organization, but because human company is worth its weight in gold.
I’ve heard that misery loves company, but I disagree. In my experience, misery prefers to tuck its head into its turtle shell and hide from everything, including the truth. Everyone, including its loved ones.
Peace loves company though, and so does joy. And maybe that’s why I’m here.
I let my brown eyes venture as far as they want to through the window, which ends up being as far as they can physically see. Through the necklace of power lines. Through the mesh of naked tree branches.
Through the sky, itself. I see you, sky.
The expanse of blue is milky with humidity. Con leche just like my coffee.
Inside, the speakers are pulsing to the beat of some song about a party in 1999. I wouldn’t know what the party was like, given that I was still swaddled in the blankets of my infancy in 1999.
Something my friends love to remind me about as though I am still the baby I was back then. Perhaps, in some ways I am.
A determined pink is beginning to infiltrate the blueness of the sky. It is too early for the night to be anything but a whisper. One thing is for certain though: it’s coming.
