Cracked
And these are my last thoughts:
Warm August light pulling away from the day like a sheet of golden foil. The lights on Main Street flicker on one by one. The street – warm against my bare feet, but comfortably so. Like I am walking on the belly of a giant sleeping animal.
Jason kissing me on the cheek that time – minutes or days and maybe years ago – Soft lips like velvet or maybe the slim petals of new daisies.
Paper lanterns. Roses. August golden foil.
The earth cracking. I’m flat on the ground, flat on the belly of a giant sleeping animal. Everything is shaking and I can’t move but I can hear- I can hear Main Street sounds, but they’re distorted by horror and confusion.
Cracking. Crumpling.
And I’m falling I’m falling and as I’m falling I’m dreaming and in my dream it’s still August and it’s still light and my feet are still on the ground and Jason is laughing laughing and it’s so real it almost could have happened except I’m falling and falling against the hard cracked earth.