Sunrise (Micro Fiction Monday)

The boy was born from the land. His body emerged from the depths of the cold earth, his breath borrowed from the wind, the colour of his eyes as green as the leaves that sprouted up around him. His skin was brown like the bark of the trees that raised him. They spoke to him, and he understood as easily as a son understands his father.

The girl was born from the sky. Her skin was as pale as the moonlight, her hair as black as the darkest night. Her body was formed by the stars—just like the ones who spoke to her, gossiping and giggling over the actions of the humans below.

Humans like the son of the Earth, who often stared up at the stars in awe and amazement, dreaming of a world he would never know. He caught the twinkling eyes of the girl in the sky, and their love came together in an explosion of colours—orange and pink and everything in between. Their love was warm, and it was hopeful. Like the rise of a new day.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Laughter (Micro-Fiction Monday) (BEDS #1)

Her laughter broke the silence.

It came from a block away, maybe two. The neighbourhood was almost empty this early in the morning. At five am, the university students and young couples and single bachelors that inhabited the apartment buildings were normally still sleeping. Occasionally, he would see a jogger or two, or someone stumbling in from the graveyard shift at work. But that was rare.

That’s what made her laughter so interesting. It was unusual. Different.

It was nice.

He picked up his pace a little, hoping maybe he would catch a glimpse of her on the main street. Here, it was a little busier—but only just barely. A couple cars with early-morning commuters, on their way to work, or to the airport for whatever tropical destination awaited them. There was an older man across the street, walking a chubby beagle down the sidewalk.

But no girl.

He was about to shrug it off, continue on to his destination, but curiosity got the better of him. He walked a bit in the opposite direction, peering down the next street over. Finding it was just as sleepy as his own, he tried the next one. And the next. And the next.

No girl.

This was silly. He felt silly. He jogged back down the way he came, slowing back down to a walk as he headed past his street.

He heard it again—a laugh, bubbly and loud and echoing down the silent, sleepy buildings. As he passed the next block, he saw her—bedridden hair, dirty pajamas, face illuminated by the glow of her cell phone, smile stretching from ear to ear at a joke he couldn’t—and would probably never—see.

Beautiful.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne