How Frail The Human Heart Must Be by Liz Poage

“It’s time to go already?” K  frowned and started to pack away her things.

“What? It’s been a great morning. For me, anyway. I found $5, got half a shirt ironed, and caught up on the Dexter I passed out during last night.” B raced down the stairs and out to her car, ready to face the day.

K wasn’t so ready yet. She left the house a few minutes after B that morning, owing to the fact that it took her so long to untie and retie her double-knotted shoes, brush her teeth with her finger, and triple check that she didn’t leave her phone behind. As K stepped outside, the birds in B’s neighborhood called in a minor and eerie tone , their intricate trills captivating K as she strode to her car at a steady pace. Her posture was precise and tall, unlike herself. She gazed up at the birds, meeting them head on even while they took her breath away. This day is foreboding. The birds are setting the scene; warning me of something.She surveyed the surrounding area, wondering what cruel joke might lie ahead. What would she lose? What would she face? The world seemed to be spinning for a minute, when suddenly, she grabbed hold of it and turned it on its head. Oh, but wait, that’s pure superstition. The universe must be playing a trick on me.  K started up the car and blasted her techno music, drowning out nature’s pull on her mind.

When she arrived in her own neighborhood, she walked at the same steady pace, but the birds here called out to her as friends. Her steps landed on soft, vibrant green grass and the toads croaked, hopping away to create a pathway. The cicadas shifted in the trees and she realized how good it is to be home.

 

 

Photo: How Frail The Human Heart Must Be by Liz Poage

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