Bruise Colored Sky


I went out running under a bruise colored sky. I wondered if there was a wild fire burning somewhere to the north and the reddish haze hanging overhead in a long foggy streak was some kind of smoke-plume. The weather had been hot enough that I’d closed myself in for the day with the air conditioner running and hadn’t paid much attention to the sky except to notice that it was oppressively sunny.

In the low light of the setting sun, the smoke or clouds or whatever it was in the sky overhead, took on an array of storm colors: purples and reds, a hint of blue unlike the blue of the sky itself. It reminded me of the clouds of tornado-season back at home: we never had a sighting, but we certainly had many warnings in which the air would suddenly get charged and still and the sky would turn purple or green and the wailing sirens would go on all over town. I grew up with a pretty healthy fear of tornadoes. Thank you “Wizard of Oz”.

So I couldn’t help but feel like something was coming or changing or, if we’re being appropriately grand: impending. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there seemed to be something in the air.

Other than that it was a nondescript day. I stayed in and cleaned house and did laundry since I knew that tomorrow I’d be going out and working. I finished another book: “Radio Head” by Rebecca LaClair which had an interesting concept (the protagonist can “hear” people as music when she touches them) but I had a hard time connecting to the characters. The point of view would change from chapter to chapter, which would have been fine if the narration was left to the two lead characters but there were chapters from secondary characters thrown in now and again that made them seem more important than their actual role in the story. And I’m not sure that I liked the ending. Maybe I’m not supposed to? But I was inspired to get back to writing again so I suppose there is that.

~ by Gwydhar Gebien on July 22, 2016.

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