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Suri Purefoy

United States

Hey there! I love writing, reading, watching movies, smelling rain, cooking, babysitting, watching leaves turn colors in autumn, laughing, and hanging out with friends and family.
Have a great day, and keep writing!

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Any feedback, comments, notes, or corrections are warmly welcomed and will be greeted with a big smile and an appreciative hug.

Suri

The Sky Up Above

May 15, 2015

FREE WRITING

1

It was late Saturday night. Where I lay on a soft cream-colored blanket, the sky stared down at me with such immensity, it made the backs of my eyeballs hurt.

    The sky was a dark, bleeding black, dyed with a dark, dark blue that seemed to have soaked in, giving it a natural look. White stars glittered up against the darkness, illuminating the blue to have a white-ish tone around them. Patterns, natural and almost undetectable, sat askew in the millions of little lights. In the glow of pale moonlight, I extended my left hand up. My fingers traced their way around the now-seemingly smaller stars. Then my hand grasped one that looked larger than the rest. I closed my hand around it, then brought the cupped hand down to my mouth. My lips pecked my fingers that had danced along the star’s sides. Then I put it slipped it carefully into my shirt pocket.

A smile on my face, I position my arm behind my head once more.

As I watched the starlit night sky, I hummed a quiet little song with unknown lyrics. It slid in my mouth and coiled around my tongue.

The soft breeze whistled in the leaves and tall green grass. It tickled my skin and I laughed, breaking the tune of my song.

The night was stilled with sounds. An owl hooted in the distance, its wings made a flapping sound as it flew on a branch some ways away. The wind blew softly. The flutter of wings sounded as a little night bird landed in its next high in the pine tree. A  soft rustle of the drapes from my open window. The stars spoke in their quiet, whispering, some would call it ghostly way. 

I closed my eyes, listening to the steady, beautiful melody that played around it. It lulled my senses. Brought me closer to that river. The river of light.

The white and gray shadows wisped around the small, sliver of a stream. The silver light beamed against the darkness that surrounded it, giving off a brilliant light. The slow, ever-moving water fell down into the blackness that lay beyond. I took a step…

“Twila! Twila, where are you?”

The wisps of light disappeared with one large gust of wind. My eyes fluttered open. The stars stared at me with sympathy.

“Twila! Thank goodness you’re alright!”

Bye-bye, the stars whispered in their eyes, come back soon. I waved to the stars, giving them my wishes of fortune.

“Twila, listen to me!” I became aware of warm hands on my cheeks. I was standing up, staring up at the sky. I looked forward into the green eyes that met mine.

“What?” I asked softly, a grin tugged at the corners of my lips.

“What were you doing out here?! It’s three o’clock in the morning!” Mother’s voice clamped down on me in loudness. Her hands grabbed mine and start pulling me in the desired direction.

“We were talking, Momma.” I said simply.

Mother stopped, gazing back at me. Her eyes are glazed with a horrified, sympathetic look. She squeezed my hand and continued walking, pulling me along through the dark field.

“Let’s get you inside, sweets. You need to get back in bed.”

Mother takes me inside the house, washes my hands, then guides me up the stairs. I don’t like the scratchy feeling of the rug beneath my bare toes. I prefer the grass outside.

I lay in bed, as commanded. The lights turned off all at once, then I listened as I heard Mother’s footsteps recede down the hall to her bedroom.

The night was not as magical, as musical in my bedroom. Even with the window open and the musical whistles through, it’s muffled and quiet. I want it loud.

I don’t even try to go to sleep. After all, I just had a conversation. I can’t just let that go unattended. So, instead of complying to Mother’s wishes, I stepped out of bed and leaned against the window screen. The breeze stroked my face, kissed my forehead goodnight, then moved on. I blow a kiss in return.

I can feel the star’s beating heart thumping in my pocket. It’s alive. I wouldn’t kill the little thing.

I pull my hand down to my shirt pocket and fold my fingers gently over the star. It’s cool, even through my shirt. I close my eyes and wish it a good night’s rest.

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  • May 15, 2015 - 7:32pm (Now Viewing)

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