Reflections Upon the Morning
I stood on the porch just after dawn and a lone goose, silent, with gentle flicks of his great gray wings, glided directly over my head, descending in a flat angle toward the empty surface of the pond beyond the pines.
It troubled me to spy this lost piece of a greater puzzle, this misplaced symbol of the power of one in many and many as one.
I wondered if he thought he saw the image of an approaching comrade upon the mirror of water, before he shattered its glassy calm into hundreds of spreading circles, each containing diamond pieces of that figure.
The sun now fully risen, I left him to his rest and returned inside, where I passed the framed photo on the wall of Sharon—the smiling portrait from before she got sick.
And there upon its glass I noticed the reflection of my face—my cheek to hers—and I said, “Good morning, babe,” and didn’t feel so lonely anymore, at least for that day.
© Joseph Hesch 2013
This week’s little story is written in response to Lillie McFerrin’s Five-Sentence Fiction prompt “Angles.”