The others around me use a word I don’t understand yet—time.

Not long ago, I was in the blue haze with beings like me, waiting to be chosen to return—floating in the dark with stars.

I wanted to come back to my old family, to protect them. But the ones I chose as parents couldn’t have more. So I found another way. I waited. It took time.

Silence was all I knew at first in the dark place. Others are scared of dark places. This place was peaceful. The girl who carried me slept a lot, and she was sad. I wonder if she knew she’d abandon me. Did she know it was all part of the plan?

And then I made my journey. Bright lights. Loud noise. Cold. Pain. We both screamed in unison.

Two nights later she left without holding me.

Elders—once my grandchildren, now parents themselves — gathered. My father shed tears and told me he was sorry. Crows take care of Crows.

I visited her in dreams while I waited in the dark place. I reached for her and told her my name. Her amber eyes lowered to meet mine in a field of wildflowers.

They—the ones I chose, came to see me. Those same amber eyes met mine for real this time. Her heartbeat wrapped around me. She is warm, but not warm like blankets or the sun. This is a deeper kind of warmth. She called me by name, and I followed the sound of it. I don’t know the word for mother yet. But I know her. The shape of her voice. The press of her lips. The colors of her hair.

I remember.

I remember being old once. Not with words, but with bones. Warmth. Scent. Laughter. The crackling of a fire.

And he—his voice makes the air around me feel safe. When he holds me, it’s almost too much. His arms are strong now, but he hasn’t changed. The same soul I rocked to sleep in a house that doesn’t exist anymore. Back then my hair was long and silver, my skin old and withered, and the wind called my name.

He was a baby once, too. I remember the curl of his tiny fingers, and how he cried when the moon was full. I sang to him—not lullabies—older songs. The threads between lives.

Now he is quiet. I watch his face without blinking. Those same bright blue eyes. He’s still my little Jaybird.

I cry sometimes. Only when the world feels wrong. Then her voice hums near my ear. Or he places a hand on my back. The world settles again. I remember why I came back.

There’s a black feather above where I sleep. It belonged to me when I was old.

There are three other voices here. These are smaller. Softer. Higher.

One stays close. She smells like daisies and fresh laundry. Her hair tickles my face. She pokes me sometimes like she’s trying to make sure I’m real. “Baby,” she says over and over again like a spell. Sometimes she whispers it. Sometimes she yells it across the house and runs to find me like she’s scared I disappeared.

Baby. 

I think she means me.

Her eyes are like oceans, and her fingers leave sticky traces on my blanket. She gave me a sock once. I didn’t know what to do with it, but it smelled like outside.

When I cry, she cries too. Her heart beats fast when she hugs me.

The others are bigger. They hover more than touch. One has freckles and big ideas. He reads to me from books I don’t understand.

The other one has black hair like Daddy. He watches me like he’s solving a puzzle. He brings me toys, but keeps all the best ones on his bed.

I am part of the family again. No one knows I’m back. Maybe I’ll forget who I used to be. Forget the dark place. The blue haze. Forget that my name used to be Salome. In this life, my name is Azure.

Author’s Note:

Thanks for reading! Follow me on twitter at: https://x.com/Valkrane

Like my author page on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61569818831489

Or, buy me a coffee: https://buymeacoffee.com/valkrane

The image above was created with DALL-E, in the future when life slows down a bit, I plan to use my own art for these stories. But for now, this works.

Thanks for reading.

V.