We are in the car driving towards my
past to finish the story I left in a different
town. We are mix-tape creating songs
from our childhood, 90’s and everything
from the radio we can remember. We are
so full of song. This man I knew once as
such a small boy, the same look up stare
of blue, laughing dimple grin, he is my
return to the home of my childhood.
We are between two small middle of
nowhere towns, darkness consuming the
windows until I look out further than the
night. Pull over, I say, I want to see the stars
here. He stops and we step out of the car
standing in the middle of the highway
that no one else is driving down. The
universe swallows us. No longer on a
road stretching towards my past.
We are now floating through the milky-
way-lights of this moment. Each star a
future memory, a moment dangling in the
air waiting to be plucked like the sweetest
fruit that Eve sought. The galaxy opens
and we, made from its dust, belong as
much to the stars as now to each other.
We reach out holding onto this blooming
moment, ripe in my palm, soft in your
arms. We look through the dark we both
have known, up to the millions of
moments now possible.
Christine Conkey has been a classroom teacher the past 12 years. This year she is spending her time writing, growing, and finding her voice. She lives in Colorado enjoying the beauty of the mountains and fresh air with her three children.