*Mature Subject Matter
As she waited, she sat in the brocade arm chair, wearing his favorite, simple black dress, reading. The room was quiet, but for the near silent whisper of the curtain sheers dusting against the pane, as the autumn breeze waltzed through the small opening in the window. Caressing the pages of her book, she closed her eyes, relishing the cool comfort.
Setting the book on the side table, she stood and walked toward the window. She couldn’t help herself; her eyes automatically shifted to the right. Against the wall, was the well-used, redwood armoire. Detouring the few steps, she strode over and paused before it, the meticulously wound, hemp bundles clearly visible through its glass doors. Reaching out, her fingers grazed the cool glass in a wistful reverence, half expecting to feel the prickle-bite of the rope. Hoping, really.
Turning on her heels, she continued the few steps to the aged, leaded window, pulling back the sheers to see outside. Beyond the long stretch of yellow-tipped green grass, was a thick wood. The brown trunks stretched into scarlet, papaya, and maize, swaying in time with the breeze, a postage stamp echo of the rural wood she knew as a child. Inside, her heart clung to the tree-topped rhythm, to the familiar, soothing music that belongs only to the autumn, the peaceful, vibrant tune of youth.
Perhaps it was also the meter of anticipation leaching into her, causing her feet to sway ever-so-slightly back and forth against the dark, fading wood of the old floor while she stood at the window, much like her young feet did when they were excited to go exploring in the wood, waiting for the sun to rise. For she knew, any moment, she’d hear his heavy footsteps, the click-turning of the brass door knob, feel the shifting of the air as he entered the room.
Above the Persian rug, in the center of the room, hung a shiny steel suspension ring. Walking to it, with a single fingertip, she reached, head high, and gave it a twirl, watching it bounce the sunlight about the room, a dancing kaleidoscope along the walls. Her veins pulsed with the welcomed choreography of the colors, her cheeks pink, warm with the glow of exhilaration.
Today is a day of transformation.
Today, she will be a leaf, ready to let go.
Today, I will fly.
– Created in response to the daily prompt, Cling; Image found on Tumblr.