Marigolden

I felt like home among the golden glint of the Marigold flowers coddled under the belly of the sun.
Miles away from home, an electric jolt of adrenaline nudged my heart so that my whole chest heaved when I breathed in.
I felt like water. Or more like snow; wrong for a girl raised by a rocky desert.
I felt wickedly home in a place that will always misplace me, catch me off guard, lose me among its yellow flowers, camouflage me with its citizens until I seem to no longer exist among them.
Here, in this meadow of wild flowers, home was a black and white feeling whose pixels became momentarily colorful. Like a Live picture taken by an iPhone camera, fleetingly moving to remind you of the life in it, before the picture freezes in time.

by Beisan AlShafei

_{Burble written on October, 2020}