Small and feral. Green knees and knotty hair, Nanny’s little devil; bumbling without a care along the concrete stones with mossy edges and busy ant homes. How she longed to be feather light, paper transparent and magical within and without. To blink and merge with vivid climbers scaling varnished heights. Her tissue paper skin grazed on unruly branches; drawing blood thicker than the wind running its fingers through her curls, unbrushed and wild. With every skip and fumble along the path, she hoped the wind which beat her hair would cushion her feet and lift her into the air. Her hair would continue to whip around her cheeks and lips as she sprouted wings from her shoulder blades. Wings she tried to feel in the bath when her mother left her unsupervised. Wings sewn with dew drops, lilac and twilight; a glossy film shimmering like sunset ripples as they unfolded. Her skin would glimmer too, a pearlescent sheen freckled with sparkles. The transformation from girl to gossamer beauty casting shadows of glitter about her diminutive form, held in sturdy fragility. Her twinkling eyes would watch the earth leave her; toes pointed, elbows suspended as she brought her hands in front, kicked gently and in a flutter she would fly.
Then she would be one with the bursting blooms, swaying trees and intrepid climbers. Her hands would turn toward sunshine; palms open and fingers spread as her wings continued to peel open with chrysalis tenderness. In her transformation she would grow smaller. Small enough to splash in petal buckets of dew. Small enough to nestle into the trumpets of the narcissus.
She would become the magical being she never saw in the mirror. She would become a girl of invincible innocence; blossoming with unbridled hope and magnanimity.
© Kristiana Reed 2019