Gold in the Sky

By Shira Zur

“My life is made up of a million stories, and you are just one of the million.”

​The moment the words left his mouth, they arranged themselves in gold lettering across the black sky, shining among the stars. If she reached her hand out far enough, she could touchthem, stir the words around the black pot. He didn’t turn over to meet her eyes when he spoke, but continued to stare up at the sky, arms folded behind his head, so his hair didn’t get wet from the grass. He hated when his hair was wet. She knew him so well; she liked to imagine that one day, he’d invite her inside of him, and she’d sit in a little pocket in his chest, right next to his heart. And then, when she couldn’t fall asleep, she’d stay verystill and listen to his inhales and exhales, timing her breathing to the beat of his heart.

​She looked back up at the sky and reread the gold wordsover and over again until they all blurred together into a bright, golden circle. Suddenly, a match of anger was ignited inside of her body, deep down in her stomach. The flames rose higher and higher up her chest, traveling through the rest of her body, the scorching tips twisting and turning inside her throat. She wanted to hurt him back. The flames climbed inside her mouth, ready to form into any word, the fireballs ready to be thrown, and they were hot inside her mouth, and they stung, and she was ready, and she was sweating, and she knew that soon it would be too late, that the flames would die, and she her mouth slightly, the light from the flames streaming out unevenly like a single flickering lightbulb in the darkness.

She quickly closed her mouth. What could she say? That her life was the opposite, made up of a million stories about him, and only one of the million was about her? That she liked it that way?

​She swallowed, the flames slowly dying, hissing inside of her throat and then her chest and then her stomach until they found the match they came from and turned black.

The night was still young. She could tell him anything. She wanted to say everything but was afraid she’d say nothing. She let the silence take over as it always did. They continued lying on the wet grass. She imagined herself turning the doorknob that stuck out of her chest and opening the door and letting herself out of her own body, her soul floating upwards, into the air. Up from the night sky, she’d watch her opened-up body, lying there,motionless, next to him.

Is that what other people see? She thought, and nodded to herself, answering her own question. That’s what other people see. A boy and a girl, lying in silence on the wet grass, watching their gold words painted across the black sky.