It take me awhile to fall asleep, my mind to busy under the stars. I think daddy told me once that they got names, an' if you look real close they pictures, each one with a story. Maybe it was Miss. Lizabeth who tol' me all this- daddy don't seem like the type to kno'.
But I don't see nothin' special in them-hard as I look- they jus' stars, little bright, flickerin' lights dancin' 'cross a dark sky. Some say they angels eyes- an' they could be right. The way they all blinkin' at us- watchin' over as we sleep- 'case the devil or 'is followers come down.
When Samuel start snorin' next to me- that when I start singin'. I ain't too bad- not too good neither but it always work to sooth my min'. If I thinkin'- breathin' in a son'- then I got no room fo' unwelcome thoughts. An' lately I've been gettin' them lots.
It ain't too lon' after that- that I close my eyes an' fall, righ' into a world of dreams. My mother ain't there today, nor James, Samuel or Cecile. Jus' me.
I in the lake 'gain my clothes discarded by the river bed. I floatin' there, the sun kissin' my face- the water my skin. I can even feel the waves beneath me as I dance, my arms creatin' invisible wings- angel wings.
"Wake up," I hear a bird whisper, landin' on my outstretched arm. His little feet tickle my skin, goosebumps runnin' up my arms- it feel good though. Real good. He don't speak in tweets like mos' words- but English the word of the human. It don't make no sense- but in my dream it do. "Wake up- Corinne. Everyone expectin' you. It time to wake up."
I sigh, makin' angel wings with my arm 'gain- shakin' the bird away. No one waitin' fo' me out 'ere- little bird should kno' that. He jus' makin' things up- makin' me leave my lake. He want it fo' its own.
"Corinne. Wake up."
The water start to shake- my whole body with it- an' then I wak up, starin' straight at Samuel.
"Wake up," he says 'gain, soundin' right like the bird.
"I am up," I mutter in response, my voice still back in dream world, my fingers an' toes an' face an' whole body still back on that lake.
"Oh, good. The sun up- they probably expectin' you back at the manor maybe in a little ways, but I gotta go now an' I didn't want you to sleep through it."
I nod, groggy still. He do gotta go- he gotta work.
"alrigh'," I say, "Thanks you."
But I don't see nothin' special in them-hard as I look- they jus' stars, little bright, flickerin' lights dancin' 'cross a dark sky. Some say they angels eyes- an' they could be right. The way they all blinkin' at us- watchin' over as we sleep- 'case the devil or 'is followers come down.
When Samuel start snorin' next to me- that when I start singin'. I ain't too bad- not too good neither but it always work to sooth my min'. If I thinkin'- breathin' in a son'- then I got no room fo' unwelcome thoughts. An' lately I've been gettin' them lots.
It ain't too lon' after that- that I close my eyes an' fall, righ' into a world of dreams. My mother ain't there today, nor James, Samuel or Cecile. Jus' me.
I in the lake 'gain my clothes discarded by the river bed. I floatin' there, the sun kissin' my face- the water my skin. I can even feel the waves beneath me as I dance, my arms creatin' invisible wings- angel wings.
"Wake up," I hear a bird whisper, landin' on my outstretched arm. His little feet tickle my skin, goosebumps runnin' up my arms- it feel good though. Real good. He don't speak in tweets like mos' words- but English the word of the human. It don't make no sense- but in my dream it do. "Wake up- Corinne. Everyone expectin' you. It time to wake up."
I sigh, makin' angel wings with my arm 'gain- shakin' the bird away. No one waitin' fo' me out 'ere- little bird should kno' that. He jus' makin' things up- makin' me leave my lake. He want it fo' its own.
"Corinne. Wake up."
The water start to shake- my whole body with it- an' then I wak up, starin' straight at Samuel.
"Wake up," he says 'gain, soundin' right like the bird.
"I am up," I mutter in response, my voice still back in dream world, my fingers an' toes an' face an' whole body still back on that lake.
"Oh, good. The sun up- they probably expectin' you back at the manor maybe in a little ways, but I gotta go now an' I didn't want you to sleep through it."
I nod, groggy still. He do gotta go- he gotta work.
"alrigh'," I say, "Thanks you."
