Today is Day 7 of Creativity Boot CampThe prompt: Fly
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I wonder if it was real. The sky and it's orange haze. The air, soft as rose petals. The yellow calico sundress with a white eyelet pinafore. Running so fast and smiling so wide, arms outstretched and head lifted to the sun. As though legs would lift slightly and a breeze would be caught. Up and away.
Saddle shoes, black and white, and baby dolls with dresses that matched mine. Made with love, mom sitting at the sewing machine stitching. The thin brown paper the patterns were made out of, how they crinkled and lifted. Light as a butterfly. Up and away.
Summers spent running in sprinklers. Grass sticky underfoot, legs covered with red popsicle drippings. Bubbles made with a rope circle, big enough for me to jump through. Suds and bubbles and the sound of the garden hose running into the blue plastic kiddie pool. Bubbles lifting, soaring, begging to be touched. Up and away.
Smiles and trundle beds. Wallpaper that spelled out Rainbow in every color of the word. Repeated and spoken silently, drifting off to dreamland. Modern dance of lightening bugs and cricket songs out the window. Sneaking peaks as the dance went on throughout the night. Up and away.
The smell of fall and the feel of wool sweaters. Round cakes decorated with little girls holding hands. Nilla Wafer heads, cupcake liner bonnets. Pinks and purple. Birthday dinners where the choice was yours, excitement to lift your head out of your body. Up and away.
Dreams of little girls. Sprinkled throughout adulthood, glimpses. Feeling light as air, the lift off the ground, the pinafore dancing in the sweet breeze. A wish, a hope. Up and away.