She's A Hurricane

Brooklyn

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The sky was as black as wrought iron and the fiery embers had burned low to the stone base, but still, they crackled as quietly as white noise in the living room.

Brooklyn the Sapphire, my company for that night, slept. She tossed beneath her blanket, rolled about unconsciously. Almost like there was an unknown entity disturbing her midnight nap. I kept to myself, muzzled my mouth with laughter, she slept still yet.

And so, upon the turn of the hour she called a name. But it wasn't my name she called out in her slumber. It was another. I awoke her by gently patting her outer theigh.

She popped an eye as gentle as a sleepy baby. And cast her gaze upon me at which time I smiled. Her doe eyes, blossomed with delight, and remained as cool and as blue as any morning sky.

"You were dreaming, beautiful." I said.

"I was dreaming. I was running through a sunlit field, gold and green. I fell though, a hole emerged from which I had no way to escape. I leaped across, not reaching enough. I needed help and then..." she paused.

"What?"

"My dad was standing there at the ledge, reaching for me, calling down to me."

"You don't know your dad, babe."

"I grasped his hand, the hand of a coal miner, and he lifted me up." she wiped away the blur from her eyes. "And then I awoke."

"Such a bizzare dream. I don't have dreams like that anymore."

"I never knew him. But suddenly, I find comfort."

..........

"There is a slight difference between imaginative thinkers of the day and imaginative thinkers of the night. One could change a person. The other could change the world."-NN