Member-only story
Dream of Them When You Can
When the intensity of grief borders on surreal madness, or magic, depending
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Emmy stood in the restaurant parking lot watching the breath-taking sunset sky fall into an inky swirl as a light breeze circled her body in the sticky August heat.
She felt like if she closed her eyes she could float into the sky and disappear, and very much wanted to in that moment.
Emmy had collected her father’s cremated remains that day and it seemed impossible that the sun would rise again the next day. She did and did not want the day to end. It was one of the longest days of her life, but if it ended, it was real, and it could never be undone. Her dad, gone, forever. As though he had never existed.
No one knew him like she had, well, no one who was still around. They didn’t know the jazzy walk, the stylish flair, the child-like attention to things that most grown-ups forgot about. The gift he gave her to let wonder in and allow Emmy the faith that unicorns and other magical things were real.
They didn’t know the dark clouds that rumbled in him and occasionally spilled onto her, scarring her heart and soul. Or the sunshine feeling that his love and generous affection could give.
