fff for my mom

big-up our boy jj, not just for this week's flash fiction friday, but also for reminding me what i'd like to gift my mom every day...

"A cool breeze licked the back of her neck..." making her shiver as she licked her mango-passion-fruit ice-cream. it was a little chilly for ice-cream, but the chalkboard outside the little shop had looked so inviting, with its promises of her favourite flavour combinations in a rich, creamy blend, held together by a sugar cone. and it didn’t disappoint. she was delighted by the concoction – if only it were warmer outside, it would make the moment perfect.
and she deserved a perfect moment or 2, she figured. she deserved to indulge in some ice-cream and sunshine, and there had to be a way to make the sun cooperate.
she looked up, willing the sun to come out and play…
sun, i know you can hear me. i know you can feel me needing your warmth…
she thought as hard as she could about the beach, about laying out on a woven bamboo mat under the ever-dangerous coconut tree – yes mom, i know they kill tens of people every year, yes, i’ll look out for falling coconuts – trying to ignore the man selling more beads she didn’t need because she already wore them on every limb so they could dance in the sunlight when she was still, trying not to attract stray dogs when she finally sat up to eat a bake+shark, trying to get sun evenly all over her body…
she thought about carnival tuesday, every carnival tuesday, miles and miles down the road in hot sun behind the music truck, burning slowly as she sweated off the sunblock.
she thought about running away from class to sit in the garden by the fountain, ducking behind bushes when teachers were spotted approaching, just to be outside in the sun, as if it were a rarity where she grew up…
sun, i know you love me. we old friends…
and she pushed with her mind – pushed the clouds aside, being careful not to spill a single drizzly drop, pushed the air currents away from each other like moses parting the dead sea (or was it the red sea?), pushed and diverged and slowly dissipated the mostly-intangible mess of air, dust and water-vapour between herself and her source of life – pushed it all gently out of the way, like simply opening the curtains in a too-dark bedroom on a late sunday morning when the smell of an imminent and tasty sunday lunch won’t let you sleep any more, no matter how hard you feted on saturday night (and that sunday morning self).
and then she could see and feel her sun.
she turned 180degrees so it could caress the spot on the back of her neck that the breeze had chilled, and sighed serenely as she licked her now-dripping mango-passion-fruit ice-cream.
she turned back around, now in search of a bench to indulge her new desire to dilly-dally outside, and came face to face with a quizzical look from the man who’d been in line behind her for ice-cream. she knew he’d seen her send the gloom of the day away and was trying to decide whether her prescence and the weather change were unconnected, or he’d actually seen what he thought he’d seen.
she knew she shouldn’t, but it was a beautiful day – who could resist?
she grinned right at him, gave a tiny wave, then pointed upward with the same hand.
she drew a big sweeping motion across the sky, winked at him to indicate this was her personal gift to a fellow-ice-cream-lover (he had chocolate-raspberry, another best) then sauntered away to let him enjoy his ice-cream and special-delivery-rainbow in peace.

walk good.