Regina Velius

My house is on fire! The smoke is burning my lungs. I run to close the door to the bedroom trying to contain it to where it started. The panic sits like a huge brick in my stomach threatening to make me vomit but I push through it in desperation to find my dogs and husband and get them out. They are upstairs sleeping in bed. I rush up the there, my heart beating so fast I can hear the thudding in my ears and feel as though I might pass out right here and now. I’m yelling for my husband and get no response. I reach the top after what feels like an eternity and he is not there, the dogs are not there. I rush back down, becoming frantic to find him. I’m screaming on the border of hysteria. Rushing out the front door I look around and do not see anyone. Not even one neighbor looks on. A deep sense of duty forces me to run back inside my burning house to see how much it has spread. It is now in two bedrooms and our bathroom in between. I know everything will be ruined, nothing will be left ...

As I stroll along my childhood farm with my Grandma, I can still see the horses grazing in the sunkissed fields and hear my Grandpa’s opera music blaring in his garage. I smell the fresh farm air, the mix of sweet grass, horse, pine shaving, fresh cut hay, and even the manure. My chest starts to tighten because once I blink a few times I see the farm for what it is now and feel the emptiness of all that is lost. Grandpa is no longer here, my parents are divorced, there are no more horses grazing in the fields, and everything is deserted, lifeless, desolate. Walking along the now fallen down fence sullenness weighing on me, I can't help but reach out and wiggle the only gate left standing. Hearing the jingle of the chain holding it in place, a smile begins to emerge as I picture my horse saddled and standing beside me. He happily rubs his massive face up my arm as I attempt to unlatch the gate. He can't seem to help himself, he is so excited we are going for a ride. I lean in as...