Where we love is home. Although we might leave, our hearts do remain. Sometimes they call us to return.
Michael stood on the bridge overlooking the river’s relentless flow into a golden sunset. He could feel Mixael behind him but refused to turn. The problem seemed simple enough to him – only one of them could go back. Obviously it should be him.
The day was too warm for the heavy black suit he wore. Little trickles of perspiration gathered around the base of his wings. Although the four-foot wings were invisible to the human eye they felt like a drag on his back, anchoring him to the here and now in a way he had not felt before. He sighed and squinted into the sun. The whole world felt too heavy for the human body he wore.
He flexed his wings and waited for his feline companion’s argument. It didn’t come.
“You know it should be me, Mixa,” he finally thought at the lion. The response he felt in return was like a huff of warm air in his brain, full of stinging bees.
“Don’t be like that,” he thought. Lions don’t feel homesick. Additionally you know one of us must stay to see things through. You don’t need me for that, you can do it easily. In fact it is something you have accomplished in the past in your own bodacious, awesome, indomitable, sassy, valiant, lionhearted way!” he thought.
The stinging inside his head grew worse. Michael blinked and turned to face his partner.
“Alright, I’m sorry – I was just trying to inject a little levity into the situation,” he thought.
All at once his mind was filled with visions of a lush jungle teeming with beautiful animals and abundant plant life. He was running through this bounteous landscape towards verdant plains and a sparkling waterhole. Then suddenly a brilliant light dazzled and He appeared. Although the light was too overwhelming to see clearly it was simple to know it was Him; the love emanating from His presence felt like no other. It was the same love Michael longed to feel again upon his return to Heaven and home.
“Oh!” he thought. “I see. You too. Well this is a quandary then, isn’t it?”
The vision of the jungle faded into his companion’s view of the bridge and river. It looked sad and lonely despite the lovely golden light.
“I know,” thought Michael. “Me too.”
This was written as part of the latest writing challenge at Grammar Ghoul Press where the prompts were the word “bodacious” and the artwork by Magritte. Click the badge above to see how other folks responded to the challenge!