That sounded like something my father would have said, but the person I was looking at was a homeless man who was looking out the window.
I took out a spray-can from my backpack and figured I’d hit him in the head with it. “It must be an under cover cop,” I thought.
“No need for violence,” he said. “You’ll only be hurting yourself.”
I realized this person was hearing my thoughts, which was not unusual because three of my aunts could do that. But this person spoke like my father and heard me like my aunts. As I got closer to him, his energy felt inviting like my mother’s.
His curls dreaded in certain areas and his face aged depending on the light it received. In the shadows, he looked and acted like an infant, in the light, he looked and acted like ancient wise man.
As we walked through a hallway he said, “Use the tools and the skills you possess to open your own pathways, your own doorways to get where you need to go,” he then continued, “you do that by listening to the sound of opportunity”
He blended into shadows and disappeared. “But there’s a lot of doors here, couldn’t I just go through one of these?” I asked. I stood in stillness knowing I wouldn’t get a verbal response.
I held the spray-can I’d been carrying from earlier that night. The smell of moisture came back strong and I started to hear a droplet of water every other second. I ran my left hand onto my right arm feeling my skin getting wet. The sound of the water dripping started to get louder and the yellowish light was now clearly in front of me. “The sound and sight of opportunity is beautiful,” I said. I remembered what the homeless man said. I also remembered that I had envisioned myself falling – and what I envisioned was then manifested into reality. I now envisioned my brother and I talking and going back home.
In between two doorways, there was a seven-foot wall space. I approached the wall, I used my right arm as a compass and spray-painted a large circle onto the wall. I created my own pathway to my brother’s exact location.
∞
Page 19
I took out a spray-can from my backpack and figured I’d hit him in the head with it. “It must be an under cover cop,” I thought.
“No need for violence,” he said. “You’ll only be hurting yourself.”
I realized this person was hearing my thoughts, which was not unusual because three of my aunts could do that. But this person spoke like my father and heard me like my aunts. As I got closer to him, his energy felt inviting like my mother’s.
His curls dreaded in certain areas and his face aged depending on the light it received. In the shadows, he looked and acted like an infant, in the light, he looked and acted like ancient wise man.
As we walked through a hallway he said, “Use the tools and the skills you possess to open your own pathways, your own doorways to get where you need to go,” he then continued, “you do that by listening to the sound of opportunity”
He blended into shadows and disappeared. “But there’s a lot of doors here, couldn’t I just go through one of these?” I asked. I stood in stillness knowing I wouldn’t get a verbal response.
I held the spray-can I’d been carrying from earlier that night. The smell of moisture came back strong and I started to hear a droplet of water every other second. I ran my left hand onto my right arm feeling my skin getting wet. The sound of the water dripping started to get louder and the yellowish light was now clearly in front of me. “The sound and sight of opportunity is beautiful,” I said. I remembered what the homeless man said. I also remembered that I had envisioned myself falling – and what I envisioned was then manifested into reality. I now envisioned my brother and I talking and going back home.
In between two doorways, there was a seven-foot wall space. I approached the wall, I used my right arm as a compass and spray-painted a large circle onto the wall. I created my own pathway to my brother’s exact location.
∞
Page 19
Concept Art for The Crow's Aura.
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