High Sky

I have 3 pieces that are still in draft stage.
While I finish those up, I thought I would entertain you with some earlier writing.
Enjoy!


High Sky

She leans strong into me, and I hold my ground, firm against her. I stretch my ribs up, as I breathe in my pounding heart. We keep this balance, snugly adjusting to the pitch and roll of the rickety Russian-made bus.

The bus is crowded, as always. We are taking the #331 to the Temple of Heaven. I look down to her face and I see the same flush I feel on my own. There is a stirring of birds between my legs and I want very much to not be on the bus at this time.

We change buses at Ping An Li and I can't find her. I look around, anxious to catch a glimpse of her, but it is fruitless. So I stay where I am, knowing it is easier for her to find me. She appears with both hands holding out rich brown pastries. She tells me they are called "elephant ears". They are warm and gooey and very, very good.

The #11 bus arrives and we can be very close in public again. This time, in my beginning Chinese, I buy the tickets. The other passengers want conversation with me, and I have no interest in answering their questions. I want my place; tight-in-close with her. But I am polite and answer them in halting, scrambled Chinese. It doesn't take long before I have reached the limits of my skill, and I respectfully wished them a long life.

I struggle through the people for her side. Again, humming birds wings beat as we lean in on each other, striking again that balance that makes the sky seem high, hot and endless.

Excerpted from unpublished manuscript: "Light Was The Wild Card"