I remember diving, or at least the feeling of it. I was small and sensitive—a bundle of innocence. When the world came into view, I gasped for air. Above me, the wings of the stork flapped back and forth. My newfound sense of perception ran wild. I glanced at every tree, every mailbox.
We slowed, and the stork set me down on a darkly lit porch. I couldn’t sleep that night, I stared into the distance. Miles of cornfields whistled in the wind. The call was haunting, a strange song that rang through the night sky.
When the sun came out, I cried. My soft skin burned and callused. My eyes widened. I blinked for the first time, and my legs grew, my hair darkened. A bundle of blue was replaced with denim. I had met people, learned their names, and loved them. My heart had grown and ached; I could still feel the pain when the world was quiet. I had scars on my calves and wrinkles on my hands. I was tired.
Behind me, the door to the house creaked open, and a warm glow reached out. My hand gripped the door's edge and I peered inside. Voices murmured and called for me. I looked out onto the field and whispered a small goodbye. The house was carpeted and warm. The sun shone in from the glass windows and lit my face. Photographs hung on the walls. Pictures of obscure things with no coherent meaning or connection. A slipper or a blade of grass. The radio played a song that felt familiar.
I danced along to the music, closing my eyes. My hips moved back and forth, my fingers grazed the air. I felt an arm on my waist. A hand that seemed to fit perfectly in the indents of my bones. I leaned into its touch and found comfort in a chest. My mind filled with blurry faces. Each made my heart ache, though I couldn’t make out who they were. Soon the warmth of the body faded away and I was left in the quiet of the whistling corn.
I pressed my face against a cold glass window and examined the fields. They were vast, I couldn’t see past them. It scared me, not knowing what lay out there if something was moving in their depths. Occasionally, I thought I saw a rustle or dent in the corn's pattern, but I blinked and it disappeared; once again identical. The husks moved in sync, swayed with the same strength. I pictured myself getting lost within them, swaying to the same pattern, intertwining with the leaves, and eventually swallowed up.
Suddenly, I heard a coo. The wind picked up and the door burst open. The corn whipped back and forth in a violent dance. Out from the field rose a hundred doves. They were giant and magnificent, utterly beautiful. They soared to the sky, and as they left the earth quieted. I stared up at the sun and watched the figures fly, blanketed in light.
The wind from outside made the house cold. I wandered past the pictures and the fireplace, back to the front door. Stepping onto the porch, I looked out into the field. There must be more out there, I felt drawn to them. The vibrations of their flapping wings still shook the earth slightly. My lips were chapped, and goosebumps rose from my arms. A flicker of light hit my face, and I looked up toward the sun. I remember coming from the sky, a drop of light falling onto earth. Was I meant to return?
I took off toward the field. My muscles eased, and my body fell into place. I focused only on my breath. In, out, in, out. I felt weightless on the grass. The sky darkened as I got closer to the plants. My breath got shaky, and my body began to ache. I crashed into the field.
Slowing my pace, I looked up at the corn. The plants were unnaturally tall, I couldn’t see past them. They seemed to be reaching toward the sun, hoping their buds would be tinted yellow with its light. A few pieces of corn had fallen on the ground. They were pale and cold to the touch, blocked from the light by their plants' thick leaves. I walked further into the field. The whistle surrounded me now, and it filled my chest with tension. I felt as if the leaves were reaching out to me, growing rapidly. The shade crept toward me. Soon the sun faded behind the leaves. I continued in the darkness, looking for any sign.
I promised myself I wouldn’t sleep. I was afraid I would meet the fallen corn’s fate. The chills that covered my body had doubled. I felt my throat close, and tears began to fall down my cheeks. I didn’t know why I left the house. The wind picked up, and the leaves of the corn slapped my body. I held myself tight for warmth. And then suddenly I heard it, that coo. I stopped crying. Again the coo. My head whipped around trying to decide where it was coming from. I took off in the direction of the sound. I ran through the corn, letting it hit me; following the noise, until suddenly I burst into a clearing.
In the circle sat a dove. Her head looked up to the sky, calling to anything near. I tiptoed towards her. My hand reached out toward her wings. She was soft. Her head turned to look at me, her eyes were wide and curious. Dark beads of thought. She tilted her wing open and moved closer to me. I hesitated a moment before climbing up. On top of her, I was unstable, swaying slightly in the breeze. I squeezed my legs tightly and grabbed her feathers. Then she looked toward the sky again. Her wings spread out, they must’ve been as long as ships. She flapped them, and a gust of wind pushed me back. I wobbled, panicking as she took off into the air. Lying on my stomach, I gripped tightly to her as we rose above the cornfields. When we got past the shade of the corn, I lifted my head and looked below me. There sat the little house, and I could almost faintly hear the sound of the radio.
By the light of the sun, her feathers began to glow. Each feather was a memory. A bright, beautiful memory. I snuggled into her back and lay in her white coat. She flew high above the sky. I could feel the wind kiss my shoulders and the sun roast my head. I hid my face in the feathers. Each one had a different smell. Uniquely perfumed to match each memory. One smelled of cologne, an oaky one that made my cheeks hot. Another smelled of morning dew, like the grass after it rained.
She sat on a cloud and covered me in her wings, letting me rest above the world. I could see the heavens above me and feel the pull of the earth below. She held me tightly and sang me to sleep. I hoped that when I woke up, the earth and the sky would come together. That people would become doves that carried feathers full of feeling and sang songs that rocked you to sleep.