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Clouds, Glitter and Pink Ribbons in Your Cereal

It’s that day.

When you wake up tired, groggy, and usually you are happy, a gentle joyfulness that washes over you for a few seconds, because you don’t know yet know where you are, or who you are. You’ve not yet had the time to remember. It’s the amnesia of all the daily pains and bruises that you take with you to the left and right side of your bed each night.

But this time you’re not happy because of your temporary amnesia, but because, even with the shrieking of the alarm and the darkness shielded by thickly skinned curtains, you’re recalling something good.

Something you’ve been cradling in your arms all night and here with eyes wider open, you see is still here; unmoved, right beside you; as the morning light begins to splinter and make a day of the slow dawn upon your cheek.

This one, this one great morning, you wake up, and the remembering brings a smile to your lips, and you stretch out your arms to embrace the warmth you feel at being alive and it’s life itself that pulls you out of your bed with red ribbons hanging from the ceiling, like a ragged doll with strings to your feet.

As you strip off your bedclothes you see glitter fall on your toes, bounce off your sheets and float from the roof. Glitter everywhere. It follows you, showering you instead of hot water, as you walk down the hallway, down the street, through the bus, into your office, it dances around you in a halo of shimmering gold beauty.

And you’re smiling, you know it, you can’t even stop it if you tried. Because you see moonbeams in the corners of your eyes, and they reflect back out of your irises bouncing off people watching you and the people, well they have begun to wonder what’s in the cereal you’re now eating at your desk.

In your cereal, this fine day, you don’t need honey to coat your flakes. You taste the flavour of the bran and milk and it’s nourishing, wholesome, you savour it in your mouth for long moments before swallowing. The cereal has pink clouds, cottony, soft round clouds in it, that tumble down your throat and cushions your belly.

As you finish the last morsel of pink clouds in your cereal, you notice in the window’s pale reflection that you are wearing one layer less of makeup today. Your freckles, your speckled freckles, sparkle in the myriads of browns, yellows and reds that make up the landscape of your face, with all it’s blotches, scrapes and subtle scars. The imperfections ever so quietly glow instead of throb.

As you finish checking your emails, you realise you’ve been listening to your music notched down a few decibels, as though you suddenly don’t mind so much the sounds of urban and office life. Your ears almost yearn for noise, cackle, shouts and shrieks and hear the beats, and rhythms, why even a melody or two in this entire racket. It’s such a contrast to the usual desperate desire to drown life out with your noise cancelling headphones.

The people around you, they really start to take notice. They take notice of it all.

By morning tea they are wondering by the water cooler how you are spending your nights in envious whispers.

And you are the only person who knows what you’re sleeping with. What spoons you between your sheets and fills you up with light until morning sprinkling clouds, glitter and ribbons in your day.

Something you lost long ago and have been searching for in many places. In empty rooms and hallways with no endings and dark, ever so dark corners.

Something you’ve found, that used to make your heart boomerang to the stars and back.

Hope.

Your hope in all things good.
Your faith in all things wonderful.

Oh beautiful, wondrous hope.

Today.
Today is that day.

And so you smile.

Because it’s back.



words: Nataly B Basave

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