October 25, 2022 - Elizabeth Lerman’s “I’ve been out here too long”

The moon is so bright here, you might mistake deep night for dawn. The sky is the same stubborn blue and when the sun sets, it turns to stars. I slip my legs between the railing and watch ash fall from my mouth, watch the soft sands of light dancing down onto the grass and that’s when I start to stare hard, squinting into the night, which doesn’t feel so bright anymore, searching for any sign of spreading flames. My eyes move without asking. I look for a very long time. I mistake lighting bugs for lit embers. I stand and think about the wood warming, cracking beneath my feet and me, falling like the fire did. I want to go inside now, I've been out here too long. Nothing is burning, but still I get into bed and spread the blaze in my mind. I will get up several times before I sleep, look out the window and check the lawn, then I will lie back down, hold myself the way I do, and hope the house is still standing in the morning.