Journal

A Patch of Sky

I don’t look up enough, at least not in a meaningful way. I’m always watching where I’m going, point A to point B, or looking down at my feet or my phone. I’m never looking just for the sake of it. I’m not looking just to see.

So when I pulled into a parking space at Save On Foods to run in for a few things for dinner, the patch of sky in front of me took me by surprise. To the left and right of it were brown brutalist apartment buildings, the top of the sky was cut off by the roof of my car, and the horizon sprouted trees. It was framed there like a painting on the wall of eternity.

My breath caught in my lungs, I was covered in music, and I just sat, dashboard vents blowing my hair. I watched as clouds crept from behind one building, crawling across the divide to hide behind the other one. A window within a window. My heart felt so loud.

For one aching moment I knew I was human. And I knew I was alone.

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