Writing Prompt

At the end of every day the sun dipped itself into the western ocean. It put its toes in first, as if to test the waters. Then, finding the water suitable, slowly it began to submerge the rest of its body. Knees to thighs to hips to belly to shoulders, cooling itself off from the day. Finally, with a contented sigh knowing its work was done, it dipped its head under and extinguished its radiance.

I look out at the horizon the sun hanging low and sinking ever deeper glowing a hot flaming color turning the clouds the color of molten lava while there are some streaks of pink and purple that bleed into each other too the sight is prettier than a rainbow the fireball that is the sun sinks ever lower until it disappears from view completely and then the sky grows ever darker turning from lava to a sea of black ink doted with millions of tiny diamonds twinkling bright beacons in the sky waiting to fade come morning light

I watched as the sun fell beyond the horizon. The color hugging the sun that caused this gorgeous spectacle, was a bright color that resembled the shade of a rain coat. This color blended so perfectly with the next that reminded me of a maple leaf as it fluttered to the ground in the middle of autumn.As the color spread across the sky it darkened to a shade that resembled a rose or even a bold lip.Before I knew it the colors sunk under the horizon following the sun, with it my awe.

The soft sand hugs my sides as I listen to the waves and watch the colors of the sky change around me. As if exhausted from a full days work, the sun travels down, retreating from the ever darkening sky. Flames begin to build in its place, burning a trail across the horizon. I watch as the flames continue to grow bolder and brighter, a beautiful display of warmth and hope. Sadly, the beauty can only last so long. Dark waves crash through the sky, leaving black in their wake. Until tomorrow.

Shall I compare thee to a honeycrisp? A sweetness cross the sky In summer rain I taste again the fragrance you provide

Or shall I call you nectarine? A softness to the touch The autumn wakes and my eyes taste a multicolored blush

The earthbound fruit considers you In every hue you peekaboo

When you hide behind the clouds I respect your silhouette

Yet my sweet tooth aches to taste sunset

Switching to infrared vision, I scanned the kitchen the living room the dining area the front door. I turned back to the kitchen. Our home sleeps wrapped in velvet. The kitchen table ripples with laughter under my fingers. All is darkness. Only the window over the sink glows as the sun lines of heat and radiation piercing the fleshy violet. The transport is circling the stratosphere. My shuttle awaits. I was a soldier then a cop then a partner then a father. I am a person returning to being a soldier to stay a person. My beloved doesn’t understand. We thrashed and shouted and I lied to bring a calm. I lingered over the boy’s cup. Blue with white stars I hold his little sky in my hand. Everything in me wants to stay. I set it down quickly. I slipped into the night turned day taking nothing but the memories of my family.

Selander stumbled twice before finding his feet, slack-jawed and staring. Light bled across the horizon, colours burning his eyes. The sky was alight, streaks of clouds cutting through the blaze.

Selander shook his head. No. Not fire. Something better. Something safer. Something like a promise whispered by candlelight - one day, Oswin, we'll see the sun - like hope caught and caged and finally set free.

'Sel!' Oswin crashed into his chest like a cannonball, fingers trembling as he signed his next words. 'The sunrise!'

'I see it.’ Selander ascended the stone steps of the harbour, heedless of the iron chain where it dug into his stomach. Oswin followed and the chain went taught as he leant against it.

'I feel it,' he whispered, and Selander was lost. Why on earth would he stare at the sunrise when he could watch Oswin?

The other boy was pale as porcelain but his expression was of pure bliss as the dawn's first light kissed his cheeks.

'It's beautiful,' Oswin breathed.

'Yes,' Selander still couldn't tear his eyes away from Oswin, 'it is, isn't it?'

The sky was on fire - but it was not the kind of fire that consumes and destroys, but the kind that shares warmth and light. Different streaks spread out across the sky like the wings of many tropical birds dancing through the clouds, and a single bright eye slowly lowered to touch the horizon.

The sky was painted with the colors of my backyard. Of the deep rust lining the chains of my swing set. The tangerine tones of my childhood curtain and the fresh pressed juice in the shelves of my fridge. The lemon tinge of the spattering mismatching leaves of the park down the street. Together they created a cacophony of warmth painted above me, watercolor streaks pulled across the canvas of my universe.

On the backs of flamingos Flocked to the horizons, Florida fruit fallen from groves Piling up in droves and droves. Scoot over! To make room for lemons. The air is sweet and full of changes, Flamingos with their salmon-heavy bellies Watch with lazy envy As hasty charcoal M’s pass by. Meanwhile, the citrus in all its zest Chitters, chuckles, chatters, Anticipating more to come. The sky in its delightful spread Yawns and stretches wildly, As it awaits the midnight plums.