Gwydolyn steps outside into the cool winter air with her cup of coffee and journal in tow. It was a long and sleepless night, thanks to the constant lightening strikes that cast her dark, cavernous bedroom into daylight for the majority of the night, and the following bellows from the sky, shook the earth so violently that some of her photos fell from the wall and shattered. It’s not common to have storms like these so deep into winter, but on occasion they sneak in to remind our little town of just how unpredictable nature can be when she wants to be. What little sleep Gwydolyn did get in the early morning hours, was abruptly disrupted by the droning tornado warnings that bounced from building to building outside her small loft window.

At that point, there was no use in trying anymore. Sleep’s sweet embrace would have to wait another day. The short descent down her spiral staircase, through the kitchen and out the back door is almost total muscle memory to Gwydolyn. She could do it completely blind and not miss a beat. Even brewing and pouring her coffee.

As she steps into the small patch of grass that’s left in her yard, wiggling her toes into the earth as she does every morning to ground herself, she leans her head back and yawns out her exhaustion. Shielding her eyes from the blinding morning sun, Gwydolyn glances in the direction of the nearest tornado siren, somehow hoping that would give her any indication as to why they’re blaring this early in the morning when it’s definitely not a scheduled drill. Before her eyes complete the path to the siren, they freeze.

Glass shatters as Gwydolyn drops her coffee mug and journal on the ground, glass and months worth of book notes, journal entries, rough sketches and coffee all blend together in the dirt beside her feet.

“Shit!” She blurts as she grabs for the journal, quickly shaking it off while also trying not to slice open her hand on any rouge pieces of coffee mug trapped behind the pages. Once the journal is as dry as it can get by being wildly flung around in the air, Gwydolyn glances around to see if anyone else had ventured out in similar curiosity to hers, only to witness her make a fool of herself. The coast is clear, so she carefully steps back a few paces to avoid the glass and returns her gaze to the sky. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops as she stares into the usually soft grey sky dotted with white and grey clouds. Only the sky isn’t a soft grey anymore. It’s changed. Something has changed in the sky.

Gwydolyn stumbles back another step, into the safety of her little bungalow home. “What the hell is going on?” She mumbles to herself.

“You’re asking me!” Grunts Gwydolyn’s 87-year-old grandmother from the corner of the living room. Gwydolyn startles and drops the journal again, pages now so soft from the coffee that they’re falling apart and tearing from the binding all at once.

“Jesus Christ, Grams, you scared the shit out of me!” She snaps as she gathers up the journal pages and tosses the sticky mess on the kitchen table. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Same as you, child. The sirens woke me before they did you, and I came to see what the fuss was about. And now I see.” Grams nods to the window she’s clearly been glaring out of for god knows how long. So there was at least one audience member to Gwydolyn’s debacle with the mug. She turns to look back to the sky, shock hitting her just as hard as it did the first 2 times.

“What…what is it?” Gwydolyn mumbles, mostly to herself but of course Grams has an answer. “The government, that’s what Gwyn! Those idiots and their experiments, they’ve broken the sky this time and who knows what the consequences will be!”

Gwydolyn chooses not to respond and open the flood gates of all that pent us rage boiling in her grandmother. Rightful rage, but not something she really has the capacity to process at the moment. The sirens finally stop their blaring, and the silence is defeating.

After a few beats of that uncomfortable silence, Gwydolyn unnecessarily confesses “It startled me so much to see, I dropped my coffee mug on the way out. I’m not sure how I didn’t see you sitting here from the kitchen. Didn’t you think to say good morning? Or maybe warn me of the…the…”

“The what, child? What exactly would you expect me to say in warning? ‘Look out, girl, the sky might reach down and rip your things right from your arms, you know due to its new…its new…shading…hue… ah! See? I can’t even be sarcastic with you this thing has me so jumbled! I don’t know how to describe it, and I don’t know why you’re blaming the sky for your clumsiness”

Gwydolyn flinches at the jab. Grams isn’t one for niceties, but lately she’s been much farther from pleasant than even she can withstand. Trying to ignore the hurt and move on from the topic of her clumsiness, she walks back to the door and stares into the sky again. Seeing it again each time is like gaining sight for the very first time. It’s like she’s never been able to see before, not really. It’s startling, in the way that taking a sip of what you think is water, but is actually apple juice is startling. It’s like discovering a new word for an experience you’ve never been able to describe. Her brain is reaching for such a word now, anything to describe what she’s seeing before her.

“Have you checked the news yet? What are people saying about it?” She asks as she walks to the tv and turns it to the local news channel.

“I haven’t left this spot since I noticed it child. What time is it anyways?”

“Almost 8 am, why?”

Grams eyes widen for a moment before saying “8am? How in the hell have I been sitting here for 2 hours straight? There’s no way it’s 8 am.”

“Well I’m pretty sure my watch isn’t wrong but I’ll check the kitchen clock” Gwydolyn responds. Sure enough, the clock strikes 8:00 right as she glances it. “Yep! 8 on the dot. 2 hours, that’s a long time for you to be unoccupied Grams. You feeling okay?”

Grams shifts her gaze slowly back to the sky outside the window. She opens her mouth to respond, but never speaks. She just stares into the deep new shade of light beaming from our ancient sky. Her eyes glaze over, almost like she’s in a trance. Gwydolyn asks, “Grams? You okay over there?” As she digs for another coffee mug. Still no response. Gwydolyn quickly walks the short distance from the kitchen to the living room rocking chair where Grams is seated, and gently touches her shoulder. “Grams? Hey. Grams!”

Grams startles, turns to Gwydolyn, and shouts.

“Good gracious child you scared the living daylights out of me! What are you doing?!”

“Grams you were super zoned out. You looked into the sky and it’s like you went into some kind of trance. Are you okay?”

A beat of silence passes before grams replies. “I…I’m not sure. I think maybe that happened before. When I first noticed the sky…I remember…I remember sitting in my chair and noticing the…the…” she trails off, staring back into the sky. Another long stretch of silence ensues as they both stare through the window.

“It’s like heaven, isn’t it child?” She mumbles as her eyes glaze over again. “Heaven has come to us. It is like the coolest rushing mountain streams to quench your thirst. It’s like crying from the overwhelm of joy” her voice is just a whisper now. “It is the feeling of new life, and the mourning of death all in one breath. It is a miracle, child. Heaven has come to us in the sky.”

Gwydolyn just stares at her. She’s noticed grams getting a little more cooky in her stories and conspiracies lately, but maybe it’s more serious than she’s realized. And grams has never been one for poetry. New life and mourning death? What the hell?

Returning her gaze to the sky, something catches Gwydolyn’s eye. A bird, fluttering by the window and landing on a nearby tree. Only this bird isn’t the regular shade of grey or black. It has the sky all over it. It’s almost glowing, against the dull grey tree bark. It’s full of light and a feeling washes over her. Not the initial shock that’s hit her every time she’s glanced at the sky this morning, but something new. The feeling you get, when a child is born. The swelling of your heart. That feeling you get, when a loved one leaves this earth. The feeling of release, when tears shed from either experience. Just as she’s realizing her experience is exactly what Grams just described, tears begin rolling down her cheeks. The bird flies away, and Gwydolyn watches its every move until it disappears over the horizon of their property. Her gaze rests on the newly glowing sky, still searching for a word to give meaning to the scene before her.

“My eyes don’t feel big enough, to take all this in.”Gwydolyn whispers. It feels as though new places in her mind are lighting up. Like her brain is an ancient library with endless dark rooms full of information, and one of the rooms just had its light turned on.

“My eyes can’t get enough” grams replies moments later, still staring out the window, her face cast in a light similar to the new shade in the sky.

“Did you see the bird?”

Grams doesn’t answer, lost again to the beauty hovering above them.

“It’s feathers, they were the same. The same as the sky. Filled with a new light, glowing against the tree. It was so beautiful Grams. What is going on? Whatever it is, it can’t be bad right? Not when it’s this breathtaking…”

A few beats of silence pass before Grams replies. “Breathtaking can be quiet dangerous, child.” And she pulls herself away from the window. “Close the blinds, girl! And the back door! I don’t want to see it for another moment. To hell with the government and their ridiculous tactics. They aren’t going to get this one!” She points to herself with her thumb.

“Grams you just called it Heaven…you said Heaven has come to us.” Gwydolyn raises an eyebrow at her grandmother, the senile behavior seeming to intensify by the moment.

“The hell I did! Close them Gwydolyn, now! And don’t let me catch you staring into space anymore either. Get your things, you’re going to be late for work and so am I!”

“Work?? Grams look outside, do you really think the warehouse is even opening today? I’m sure everyone else is as confused as us, there’s no need to rush back into normalcy before we’ve gotten even a single answer about what’s going on!” She peels her gaze from Grams to glimpse the wonder outside her window again.

“Stop this nonsense! Get your things, close the blinds, and let’s leave! Now!”

Accepting that this enraged, senile woman was not going to lose this off the wall argument, Gwydolyn did as she was told and met Grams in the truck out front. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, she spends the entire car ride leaning against the window with her hood on, pretending to sleep, all the while fully soaking up this new and beautiful light radiating from the sky. How could her grandmother be so pessimistic about something so enchanting.