This was something eerie about that morning. Something unsettling in the way the air seemed to be the exact temperature of my skin as the dark clouds loomed overhead. They didn’t threaten rain, they just sat there obscuring the sun and making the world feel a little heavier. It was the same day (or maybe the day after) that David Carradine died, but I don’t think that had anything to do with it.
In all other respects the day turned out just fine… but walking home in the morning I couldn’t shake the heavy feeling in my chest that something very wrong was happening somewhere. Like there was a great disturbance in the force, millions of people all crying out in pain and then suddenly…. silence.
So I got a little Star Wars nerdy there for a moment, so what. It’s an excellent explanation of the weight in the air. In my heart.
I lied when I said that day turned out just fine. As I sit at my computer tapping out these words it’s only 8:38 in the morning. That day. The dark heavy day that has air so thick I can hardly breath.
But I’m all about the wishful thinking.