For Writing's Sake

Curtains

It's Sunday morning, and the house is quiet. I'm the only one awake, save for the birds welcoming the sun with their chirps.

I suppose the birds aren't the only ones awake. I'm sure there are worms and snakes and butterflies. Perhaps there's a creature we've never even seen that's awake right now; perhaps it's white with long blue-tipped ears and has nails that sound like clinking glass when it walks.

I'm sitting in the most unappreciated section of the house: the one to the left of the front door, with gaping windows and white paint, a high-peaked ceiling and an off-center fireplace. This is the room facing east, so the sunlight has illuminated most of the white on the walls.

There used to be great, creamy curtains bordering the sides of the largest window. It looked like a woven waterfall.

They were one of the few things kept from the previous owners of the house.

Now, as my mother noted after having them removed, if you looked hard enough, you'd notice a few spots of age against them. I never looked hard enough.

In fact, I never saw them. What I saw was the unfurling of a maiden's gown mid-twirl. I saw fairies and dragonflies made of gems hidden in the folds. I saw flowers and red carpets, golden-rimmed vases and tended smiles. Something about their elegance captured me and moved me into my imagination; a place of peace and truth--a place where I'm free to smile and dance with ideas I love and not worry about who might witness and judge.

Someday I hope to have curtains like that in my own home. Oh, and a dark ebony grand piano perched up near the corner. I hope to have flowers of light blue and butter-yellow in clean vases: hand-picked from the garden out back. In the garden there would be a wonderful fountain, made of marble, and it wouldn't resemble any stone-dead creature, it would make the water seem alive. It would be adorned with bird baths and koi fish.

All of that is wonderful to hope for, but quite honestly, I'd be content with any living place as long as it felt like home. I'd be happy living in a trailer or even on the streets. Besides, flowers can grow there, too.