Casey’s heart hammered as she swaddled her newborn.
The nurse hid a smile. “You’re doing great.”
The seam stayed narrow for mere minutes. Then the stitches of the atmosphere broke; the sun reached across the earth and swiped the colors in the sky. The lavender faded. The peach dissipated. Still the globe, a touch fainter now, remained.
As the heat of the morning touched the earth, the globe changed position. It rose from its stadium seat and climbed for a better view. A better view for it of the morning meant a lesser view for us of it.
The Write Edge Writing Workshop by Ekta R. Garg 