Tyler Odeneal
Morning
By
Tyler Odeneal
It
already had him – searched, prodded, mail carriers, packages observed – when it
found her.
She
dressed for work and he came over, kissed her and she desired him and he, her.
Then there was time, numbers on her phone screen smiling, laughing even. They
caught eyes, laughter escaping them in bits, and he wrapped his arms around her
waist, promises to finish the expression of love unspoken, still there. It was
morning, and most would've groaned at the sight of the rising sun. She didn’t
mind. This powerful being, star in the sky granting life, god of the ancestors
– she relished the warmth it granted in Louisville Summers, enjoyed it just as
much during short but frigid Winters. “You know the sun was a god back in the
day?” she’d told her boyfriend, Ken, while gazing out of a window, light
flowing in.
“Really?”
he said, half asleep.
“Yeah.
The ancestors believed that the sun gave life and, I mean, it did. If the sun
shined that meant crops grew but if it didn’t that meant famine.” Ken rested
his head in her lap, warm hands finding his face.
“Makes
sense,” he said, eyes opening to her. He sat up as she grabbed her name tag,
placed the iron in the closet, fixed herself, briefly, on her reflection in the
mirror that Ken had picked out, anniversary gift for her. Thought of herself, briefly,
in the years to come, “Best Part” playing at her wedding, children dancing, “SOLD”
over a for sale sign, a new yard, sunlight shining through east facing
windows. She yearned for a new morning, one where she’d find rest. She knew it
was coming – felt it deep in her being.
“What
do you think we should eat tomorrow?” The couple had planned a date night, bought
steak and she’d already set the candle she liked on the kitchen table, hid it
under a napkin. Ken had complained about the smell and so she smiled to
herself, knew that he would bare the floral aroma for her.
“I
thought we were trying Keto?” she asked, a grin growing on her face. The two of
them paused, laughter warming them again. “Well, we can always try next week.”
“Yeah,
we got time.” Ken got up and, knowing her next move, passed her her shoes, kissed
her forehead.
“I
love you,” as she exited the apartment.
“I
love you,” as she closed the door.
***
A bang pulled her from slumber, Ken already aware. They
stared into each other’s eyes, foreign noises, Ken rising from the bed. She sat
in the dark, destiny finding her, strange song ringing in her ears.
Breonna
remembered everything – good, bad – the Universe had granted. Knew that justice
was, in fact, not blind. Thoughts of her mother, of accountability, of purpose,
of a life in vain – of course not.
In
the dark, she knew that where she was going there’d be morning always, sun
granting light without compromise. A light that no one could take from her.
______________________________________________________
Tyler Odeneal is a Fiction MFA student at Columbia College
Chicago. He’s had fiction and poetry published in Furrow Literary Magazine,
Glintmoon Literary Journal, Genre: Urban Arts and elsewhere.
Inspirations/Resources
The works of Zora Hurston (Sweat; Their Eyes Were Watching God)
The works of Shirley Jackson (The Lottery)
The works of Toni Morrison (The Bluest Eye)