When did you stop believing in a higher power?
When I was young, I said a prayer every time I hearda siren. I thought that maybe, if I closed my eyes tightand wished hard enough, God would save them.
Would you rather pray to a God who can’t hear youor a God that won’t listen?
It hasn’t snowed yet in Tennessee, but it’s been rainingfor a week. In the morning, curls of fog rise from the pavementin thin layers of velvet, filling the valley.
I’ve noticed everything is softer after it rains,like the world is holding its breath.
Last night, an apartment down the streetcaught fire. We couldn’t see the building,but we watched the emergency lightsthrough my bedroom window, and I thoughtabout the gas station where I get my cigarettesand the family-owned barbeque place a block over.
Would you rather slow-cook in an apartment fireor freeze in a snowstorm?
Everything here is the same—the same faded streetlightsand the same fast food and the same homeless peoplelining the space between buildings. The sun was brightin my eyes the next day, but I saw the apartment’s balcony—it was a crisp, dark brown that bled to the neighboring units.
I thought it would be quiet when we moved out of the city,but my love, there are so many sirens, and I haven’t slept in days.
I don’t know if I ever believed in God,but I’ve started praying again.
Photo by Daniel McCullough on Unsplash