https://kimbiliofiction.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/blue-dots.jpg 883 532 David https://kimbiliofiction.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/logo-white.png David2022-08-24 13:40:102022-08-24 13:40:10Kimbilio Fellow Jason Harris’ New Story in TAINT TAINT TAINT
As she stands near the ledge, the wind swirls and Airyel closes her eyes, flowing into one of those instances experienced but rarely acknowledged by all living things; a face to face meetup with her maker. Of course, she is seeing it in her own way, as the divine wears whatever mask suitable so that their child knows its them. If it had been someone without a God, perhaps it would have been a cluster of stars twinkling; if it had been a tree, it would simply be the sun, because the trees hold the sun in that regard and reach skyward for that very reason. One thing is certain; the creator is going to say something one way or another, at least if that’s what one believes. In Airyel’s mind, she sees Eu Goode, her grandmother’s favorite talk show host and spiritual advisor, dressed in a flowing white robe, eyes sparkling, nails and toes painted with fire engine red acrylic, and hair ta-done-up, as they say on the west side. In Eu’s left hand is a golden baton with a crown of jewels on one end; Big Ma’s savior points the scepter in Airyel’s direction and smiles; the sentiment of her expression surrounds her visage with an ebullient glow. There are no words from the usually verbose entity; but then again this is Airyel’s version of Eu. Some folks don’t fashion God as a voice in their head, more so just a vision or a sign; some don’t even imagine any type of omnipotent persona attached. For others, it isn’t a vision- vision implies that it is a message from some external source; perchance it is a hallucination, a manifestation of all the fears and emotions jumbled up in some closet hidden in the depths of one’s heart. Airy is past that now; she is clear on where she is and what is to be done, and the appearance of Eu in her mind is for her the final sign that she has reached her moment of letting the world know she has accepted ownership of her destiny. The gravity of her decision isn’t lost to her; to step off a ledge is stepping off a ledge, wings or not. That is certainly a choice that could conjure up extreme reactions from within or without. While wings lend to the moment the possibility that life is going to be exceedingly different and new and beautiful, the other option, the expectation of the figures who now pushed through the roof top door and closed in on her, is that she would lay sprawled on the street below, body twisted this way and that, while they hoot and record the debacle on their coms. Thus, the ledge and this moment offer two outcomes.
Read the rest of the story here: She Finna