- That day when my father saw me levitate, he was furious.
- He said: “Sir, how is this?”
- And I said, “Sir, I do not know, I do not know, I do not know.”
- I looked in those eyes glaring up at me in shame and sheer terror.
- “I have seen this before!” he cried.
- My mother. My mother the levitator. What a beautiful life…
- I looked for the words to comfort him, some words he might understand.
- I spoke my mother’s name.
- My father shook.
- She was a women of thirty-three when she floated up.
- We watched her change from local beauty to strange, small shape to speck of cloud.
- The entire family was surprised.
- I mean, she was only thirty-three.
- I remember her dark hair blowing in the cold, blue sky.
- My father trembled. I rose higher still.
- She had skin like chrysanthemum petals.
- My father screamed, “There’s nothing to breathe where you’re headed!”
- She wore a forest-green dress with white bandages all over it.
- I didn’t care much about the lack of oxygen.
- There was some euphoria there instead.
Floating down The River of Darkness Floating down The River of Night Floating down The River of Nothing Got a feeling Something ain’t right Floating down The River of Sorrow Floating down The River Gone Black Floating down The River of Goodbyes Don’t know when I’ll be floating back