by Coleman Bigelow
I first spotted her at the beach—stood transfixed as she waved from the shoreline, her body a blazing constellation searing my adolescent soul like an invisible brand. Every night after, I sought the light that reflected and pulsed within her. Late one evening, I found her by the water, watching the ripples of gold and green, the sparkling flecks flickering beneath the churning tide.
Soon, she was diving in, squealing and beckoning for me to follow as she kicked and splashed within the neon spray. I yearned to join her, to swim in her radiance, but she was already melding with all the other submerged blooms—the last glittering remnants of a star being swallowed up and reanimated by a million other tiny organisms.
“You should come in,” she called, as she drifted further and further out, “you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Coleman Bigelow‘s work has appeared recently or is upcoming in 3Elements Review, BULL, Bending Genres, Cease, Cows, Flash Boulevard, and Your Impossible Voice. Find more at: www.colemanbigelow.com or follow him on Twitter @ColemanBigelow.
A-minor 