You could tell a lot from the skies, far beyond the time of day, or of night. The world would always take pleasure in telling you all the things you were not. With it’s stance above majestic and humble attentive onlookers were cloaked in velvety dreams and purpose, the sky could remind you who you were.

Abia wondered why the people around her tried to predict the future. She never saw that any good could come from knowing that no good was ever coming. Merolas was like an impressionable adolescent that sought answers for the inexplicable, swallowing all kinds of nonsense tales to satisfy it’s own wondering. A traveler from Eastern Asia had once told the locals that if they carried all the riches they owned to the top of Sugarloaf mountain, and blessed them in an ocean stream on the way down, anything they were spent on would be fruitful. If you bought bread it would go as far to feed your whole family, if you bought seeds they would blossom into trees that would flourish into a Forrest. Naturally superstitious there was not one local that ignored the travelers truth. A week later nobodies livelihood had much improved, and there was not the makings of a vineyard in sight. Such phases changed with the moon.

Merolas was home to two women, the sabio (wise). Their families had lived on the land for generations, growing and working, listening and whispering, and it was believed their bloodline had acquired knowledge throughout and beyond the world’s corners. If something bad happened, if someone needed advice, they would often ask the mystical women to offer guidance and council. After Tia Carleta miscarried her baby boy, Abia had seen them reading her tea leaves in a search for hope. Carleta’s face as white as east side orchid, they told her she would conceive again in the fall when the heavens would open and cry down on Merolas in full force. Skpetical of anybody who told her they knew what was coming before it happened, Abia doubted such logic and reserved herself to trusting her own instincts. As long as she could look above, as long as she could settle in her own thoughts she would know exactly where she was in that instant, and that knowledge to her was more valuable.

©, 2015 in Skies over A Shanty Town

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