Her velour diaphanous cape with the lace-edge hood, hid her mottled face; keeping it in the shade like a grand old elm sheltering the neighbourhood. The birth marks looked like splotches of ink cast against her skin like stains on a dirty skirt.
She only ventured out when the weather was dissonant clashing between dark, thunderous clouds, and patches of yellow sunlight. She looked for the iridescent rainbow stretching across the sky.
Once there were 3 rainbows and she thought of this as a sign – but a sign to what. She felt the salty flow down her cheeks as she stood looking southward, waiting for the 3 rainbows to answer her question or take her with them to the stars. She opened the clip of her purse, pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the tears.
Written for Sunday’s Whirligig 4