Gwevera Nightingale’s Color Blast
a short story
Gwevera Nightingale’s Color Blast
E.D. Augustine
For Logan
My Angel
Gwevera couldn’t take it underwater, the sea had grown tiresome. She sought to write a story which might show others of world she could feel. It was written in her observatory at night beneath the stars, a manifestation of all that was around and within her work and life. She was a fruit of life, and a color of illumination. Change bore from her bosom into the fountains of youth which taught all of lives again and beyond.
Oka was a soldier of adventure. She was a trooper. They were the biggest heart anyone could ever meet.
Her moms were okay, but life had taken her into the tides of independence. One of them was more present. The other more welcome. Each breath beside her Auna was the chance to breathe out wide in the beyond. She had been waiting through such time, summers spent beside, longest weekends made by right of education taken in her own way, step by step, each choice her own, a part of systems which let her play and create.
It had been Auna who provided despite the way she’d been taken from Oka.
Her mom was the bravest person in the world.
Leaving home for good. School ended. Fighting expectations of going away to schools she had learned to see through. Protected always as if some cherished sort to be protected from all that would steer them apart from herself. Lesser sorts would always seek to bring her down in their ways.
Auna — never.
To her mother, the only thing which matter was what she wanted to be.
Oka wanted a farm. She wanted a special one. She wanted a dreamland.
Her momma Auna had found the place. She had held it down. Every stroke of chance she had to hold them tightly was taken and each step held in honor. No matter how conditioned her responses had once been by people around her speaking ill of her mother in plain. Her heart had never forgotten. It led her home again and again just to see Auna. She was the brightest heart and feelings of her life. Something saddest had happened when she was young which she could only remember by how large her heartfelt of sorrow for the feelings of everyone.
About the time Oka was separated from her mom. Especially thereafter. She had begun announcing proclamations to everyone she met, affirmations of confirmation to another.
“You’re happy.” Was the better one.
Auna was always happy to see Oka. Every time. Only one memory burned in which spurned her worst. Her other mother had been the victim in mind but not of feeling. She had begun to get confused and said the wrong words to placate her other mother in youngest age, regurgitating patterns they would take too literally, not one bit her fault, and lose such time with the momma who made her feel so warm, and sweet, but sadly too. Longing was a notion always held for Oka. It was for some home lost to her heart. That was for Auna’s gentle presence.
Nothing had ever been felt more preciously in the universe than the love between her heart and that of her mother Auna. Times lost sleeping beside were never to be lost despite conditions set otherwise to the masses. There was always and forever a snuggled place beside her mom Auna, or the distance she needed to hold some place of peace.
Their hearts felt connected to Oka. It was a strangest thing. People didn’t believe the angel before them and least of all her other mother.
They couldn’t. She wasn’t theirs. She was only hers. Auna only shared her brightest colors with Oka. Everyone else took silver.
Fairview was the landing. The car which took her a challenge for the smell. Her first smells were that mistaken for something less than freshness. It was a heaven to be home at the farm.
For it to be her chance to stay. For her future to finally be alive in front of her. To knew her mother Auna had written it to go exactly that way. Had been a brightest beam of truth most seen which led her free before again. Each last laugh was just of gas as echoes felt had taken fast. Not would be the choice to stay. Life lived free was meant for play.
Auna was a grace, but again different. For all but Oka it had seemed a challenge. She was always changing. Her heart couldn’t be felt but by a fewest of friends who could bear the weight of its shine.
Something saddest was seen in her eyes. Auna had been made the way she was in the cruelest fashion imaginable — unseen — alone — speaking truth the whole time — watching people go by unaware that she was being murdered by mind. She loved someone. It wasn’t fated. There was no accident.
They were a great person for how they stood beside in the ways they could. Oka appreciated them most for some sense of honor she found by knowing they helped Auna get back to her. Oka would never love any elder more than Essa for that, apart from her mothers. It didn’t take anything but a smile from them to send Oka’s heart spiraling. She wanted to be like them for how they were the force which once was seen as some darkness looming in the background. To eventually appear as the savior of Auna and her love.
Hugs were rarest between the two. Oka had only gotten a few. She remembered them all. Something about them felt illuminated like her mother. They were different in how they saw past the designs of a crumbling world Auna had helped her find her own unique perspective on. Everything her mom did was designed around one thing; following the leader would be Auna’s goal.
Space was abundant at the farm which hadn’t ever been named. It was just a house with a garden and acreage stretching to a forest in the distance. Ten minutes by car would get you to a town. There was a lake there. It was a mountain named Chesapeake.
Auna had been thinking on it a lot. She had once drawn up a name for it in a story which ran from short to long and back. Oka had been working on her own.
Twisted paths would prove to have been carved by bike. Auna liked to pedal quickly. She was a racer of spirit. Nothing made her feel better than to have figured something out. Everything that mattered to her was found in playful, competitive victories sought and won or lost the same. When people played mean. So did Auna.
It scared most people. Never but that once she remembered, a time too dark, when something wicked had been seen drawn out of her momma Auna, would she have a single shred of evidence to prove anything of even mind to see her as anything but an angel. Her heart always knew.
The first time she saw her mother Auna after the incident. They’d been alone. Mother Auna spent a great deal of time apologizing. It was the saddest thing. She forgave her and nobody else seemed to. They were all so mean to Auna. Everything seemed upside down in Oka’s life after her mom and her were split.
Until that first time she stayed over again, spent the night, like she would with Auna that evening by habit of tradition. First nights back were special.
The bedroom was a bed-room.
Essa had been around and at the dinner table, before they all went back to the rooms they were occupying that night. Auna had been happiest that her other mother, or one of the other friends she had come to know, wasn’t there. They rarely were but always soured the mood. Once, before it never happened again, Auna hadn’t scurried a vermin out of her home early enough before Oka’s arrival.
It wasn’t even a big deal, but Auna seemed most hilariously tortured by some prophecy found in it. She could never apologize correctly for anything, to anyone, and it was a factual notion felt in the words.
Auna, her mom, had no right to be sorry for anything.
At the dinner table Oka told them.
I’m calling it Daphne’s Place.
