First Frost
I used to be “best friends” with a narcissist. More about her in Mother’s Day 2005 and Kitten.
I should have heard it or felt it the first time the cold breath of it tried to extinguish my flame.
That resonant no, echoing for all time, saying on every winter night filled with smoky breath; every spring twilight filled with hope, romance, and youth; every summer afternoon harsh with sunlight and suffocating heat, every magical moment of autumn seized as if the seasons can tolerate singular possession, that another’s desires must eclipse my needs.
It insists that I am not important, that my need to be recognized is more selfish than the demand to be in a perpetual spotlight.
I didn’t recognize the first frost, but I still have the power to shake hypothermia out of my bones and spirit, leave this absurd insistence that my story doesn’t matter down on the tundra while I take to the sky with my fire showing me how to rise above this cold conceit and ride the thermals of my truth.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston
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Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
I felt this 🔥💪 the picture and the ending made me gasp 🙏
"I take to the sky with my fire showing me how to rise above this cold conceit and ride the thermals of my truth" oo, this is such a good ending! rising fire 🔥