Them

I, that cowardly seventeen-year-old, slumped to my knees and wept, my tears shimmering glass apples in the light of the setting autumnal sun. But like Man exiled from Eden, I overcame the Fall. I stood up and dried my eyes with the back of my hand. Soon, the saline moisture on my cheeks would evaporate. Wisps of water vapor would rise toward the heavens, overcoming gravity’s pull and soaring up to the clouds above.