Sunlight licked the curtains of clouds and his saliva of blazing light slid unto the Earth’s blanket of lush olives and across his bed of cornflower blue. Sky, naked and gratifying, clothed herself with the many stitches of all shapes and sizes of cotton across her body. The daughters of Sunlight and Sky–the heavenly Rays–with their dresses of blistering cloth draped down from their father like a chorus of angels descending down from Christ’s home.

The daughters’ dresses flowed onto a home of lingering, with its stone frame, walls of plaited clay and secrets hidden inside. Sunlight eyed an abandoned barn near the house, wilting with cobwebs hanging from its spine and critters littering on its forgotten corpse.

Surrounding the lingering house and solemn barn, the land was hushed; no one had dared to trespass the lands during the scorching Sunlight’s presence. The wind glided with passion but it seemed as if it were, too, avoiding the land.

All but one avoided the lands of fever. Sunlight, his wife Sky, and their daughters all noticed a little woman in the lands. She wore a lovely pink dress with her charcoal hair pulled back. She crawled through the open grass in this heat and they feared for her safety in this revolting warmth.

The Rays questioned their parents as to why she simply did not get up and walk.

Sunlight scolded his rude daughters but Sky soothed his anger. Sky, with her gentle words, untangled their inquiries of the woman; “She is not like many others; her legs carry a grief that many do not know. Many will never know. But I know this: she cannot fly like us. She cannot stand. Not even for a moment.”

“But she can get around other ways?” 

The daughters observed an empty wheelchair accompanying a standing husband with paints on the porchway of the lingering home.

“She refuses to,” Sunlight explained.

“Why?”

Sky had no answer, for she was not the woman. They were of the same kind; not of the same mind. But still, she responds: “Not even her other flesh knows why. But even he does not question it.”

To aid the woman’s journey back to her lingering home, Sunlight avoided the woman to protect her pale complexion, Sky moved her stitches above the woman to shield her sensitive eyes from Her husband, and the daughters, with their dresses, flowed onto the little woman’s beloved husband, who awaits for her return on the porchway beyond the fields.