Broken Sky 1:1

The island house is all porches and windows, built to catch every breeze, shaded by the biggest trees that grow on the island; Mom filled it with bright colors and flowers. We were there for a vacation, and probably hadn't done much besides swim and hang out on the beach, and eat my dad's cooking.

That day - don't remember what we were talking about. Probably nothing. Dad was making crepes and filling them with whipped cream and fresh fruit, Mom was pouring tea, and her cat was stalking a bird.

The sky broke.

Smashing pottery and overstressed metal, the noise so loud it drowned out every other sound. The cat scooted under Mom's chair. The thing in the sky - it wasn't a cloud or anything like one, not dark or light, a shapeless blot, not like anything. The noise was in my bones, my heart, my blood, rushing, more intense, more real every second, burning behind my eyes, that blot ripping across the sky into a jagged-edge tear that stretched almost horizon to horizon, cracks running out from it at all angles.

It sounded like surf and wind, but the sea and wind were calm, and that wasn't what it was anyway. It's just what it was least not-like, that sound - whatever it was, it was like the other side of the first noise. I wasn't thinking of that - I wasn't thinking at all. All I did was stare at the sky, because what the hell else would I do?

That stuff tumbled out of the tear and billowed out in vast clouds, and don't ask me what color it was, because it was all colors and no colors and sometimes I couldn't see it at all. The wind didn't touch it, and it wasn't like a waterfall, or fog. It wasn't like anything, not cold or hot or wet or dry; it didn't smell, it didn't taste, it wasn't anything, but it was there.

That diffused gray shadowiness of a cloudy day dulled out all the colors, just ... it took over everything. It didn't matter that the sun was shining, the sky looked like a storm was coming and the sea was grey.

Mom said it was the darkness between heaven and earth. I think she was right.