Her father always called her Birdie because of the way she sang to the morning sun. As soon as she grew up and flew away, she grew to love the moon just as much and whispered all her secrets to him.
But overcast afternoons confused her; the dappled dull grey glow wrapped around her shoulders so heavy. Too heavy to hold, some days. So she avoided them like the plague. Life was too happy to be sad.
One day, she escaped her desk at lunch when it was charcoal outside her windows, craving to feel it for herself. She strolled like everyone else to the nearest coffee house for a shot of something to make the grey go away. But as much as she tried, she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She saw him sitting on some steps a few buildings away, playing guitar and singing her favorite Marley, seemingly oblivious to the kind of day it was; certainly not the kind that inspires someone to sing Three Little Birds. In public, no less.
It was almost comical, how long she stood there and stared at him. He was sunshine. Pure bright sunshine on an otherwise dark day. But there was more. So much more. It was as though his eyes were two perfect crescent moons, sending out this glow that she only saw after midnight when the world turned off.
They formally met in between Marley and LaMontagne, and she didn't return to her desk for three days. Her supervisor understood; everyone was taking leave during those grey days.
He taught her about lazy lunches and how to truly feel how the fog kisses your skin. How grey turns to lilac in the blink of an eye, and how the color in between the two is one of the most stunning she'd ever seen. How comfort food tasted even more comforting when the sun was hiding. How overcast o'clock was the most luscious time to take a nap.
Soon enough, she was back to normal. Only better. She still sang to the sun and whispered to the moon, but you could also find her happily cooing at noon to the clouds that came with him to cover her.
Isn't this the loveliest umbrella you've ever seen?
She saw him sitting on some steps a few buildings away, playing guitar and singing her favorite Marley, seemingly oblivious to the kind of day it was; certainly not the kind that inspires someone to sing Three Little Birds. In public, no less.
It was almost comical, how long she stood there and stared at him. He was sunshine. Pure bright sunshine on an otherwise dark day. But there was more. So much more. It was as though his eyes were two perfect crescent moons, sending out this glow that she only saw after midnight when the world turned off.
They formally met in between Marley and LaMontagne, and she didn't return to her desk for three days. Her supervisor understood; everyone was taking leave during those grey days.
He taught her about lazy lunches and how to truly feel how the fog kisses your skin. How grey turns to lilac in the blink of an eye, and how the color in between the two is one of the most stunning she'd ever seen. How comfort food tasted even more comforting when the sun was hiding. How overcast o'clock was the most luscious time to take a nap.
Soon enough, she was back to normal. Only better. She still sang to the sun and whispered to the moon, but you could also find her happily cooing at noon to the clouds that came with him to cover her.
Isn't this the loveliest umbrella you've ever seen?
