Ficlets

Her skirt lifted, flickered, billowed. Around her ankles the cascades of cotton expanded, receded, breathed. No more winter, no more nights accompanied by the lonely cackle of a dwindling hearth, no more frayed blankets and tattered garments, too loose to keep the warmth in or the cold out. Beyond these hills, this sparkling terrestrial floor that beamed bright and vivacious under the cool all-knowingness of the vast expansive sky, was hope. Her valise in tact, her hat secured with a steadfast intent on her head, she marched forward, letting her bare feet move freely over the wide open plains. It’s stranger now, this world, this gem of a country, nestled securely between her heart and her memories. Her chest overflowed, her love for the sky and the wind and the air ruptured forth, it’s passion finding no bounds to contain within. She crumpled, let her knees brace for the fall, and let her flushed cheek lay momentarily still on the coolness of the grass beneath. This country, this land, she loved it so.