Black Lightning |
by Birdie Houston |
April 10Th, 2006 3:39 a.m. sitting in a Indian styled position center of bed. Silently listening to the porch swing...swaying noisily. Pouncing winds seep through cracks vibrating my bedroom windows as if on a special hunt. After about 40 minutes passing my feet became so tingly and numb until I began pacing back and forth, waiting impatiently for the phone to ring....just ring! Sound a bit distraught, paranoid, finicky? Good ...for I know I'm not dreaming! Detroit he's the love of my life. Well, we had a thing going on. Rocky not smooth as silk, nor rough as turbulence but still like I said, going on! Get the picture? From my understanding after struggling together eight solid years we decided we were going to take a weeks vacation. Go somewhere really nice. How I Looked forward to it. We discussed it continuously just about every other day. I even went on a bit of a shopping spree buying us some sharp new threads, and a bottle of perfume called Toe To Head, I purchased an awesome digital camera, even saved a few extra nickels and dimes for that rainy day. Four nights ago Detroit told me, I was his one and only or was it one and lonely? Well Detroit left, he actually decided to take his speedy little one way vacation without me! My suitcases are still over in the corner by the front door packed. I called Detroit's cell over and over all I ever get is his voice saying call back later. Detroit even went as far as to change his greeting. Now a woman's voice comes on sniggling, "It's the only way to go!" I clearly recognized the voice. It's my old running partner Simone. This sister had nerve to stand nose to nose yes directly in my face more than one occasion, her bulging blood vessels almost popping straight out of her shaved head. Ranting, prancing, carrying on about how Detroit's a low life, absolutely no good, telling me I should leave him, he's nothing but a headache. Yaka! Yaka! Yaka! On and on about how she couldn't stand him, how she hates the ground he walks on and his backward guts! It stings...these wee hours of morning are dark. I feel queasy, lost, like air being let out of a tire, a petaless flower, a clock with no hour. I'm feeling a dark moment. Feeling as though hot mud has been poured between each toe unsteadily. I hear trembling thunder, but the phone still hasn't rung. The platinum engagement ring I kept on my finger is gone. No I don't wish to saver or dwell in these moments. It's like....black lightning, you can't see it, but you know it's there! Yes, you know. |