tonight, the world begins again

jessie caitlin bullard

photo credit: Jessie Caitlin Bullard

van morrison tells me that we were born before the wind; that we are younger than the sun. and i feel convinced of this, as i breathe in the scent of freshly baked bread, the table's centerfold, tempting me to indulge more than i should. the lamp beside the kitchen table hangs close to my head a harsh yellow light, but i leave it on because my love is next to me and they prefer the light on. i hear them jump in their seat, like a spooked cat evading the terror of the vacuum's blaring vroom, because the video game glitches and costs them a goal. upstairs, i hear tita and tito laughing at a movie they are streaming, and the house is full of life in this moment. the cold brew kuya made the night before is pouring its robust scent into the air surrounding me, and i feel hugged the way a teenager squeezes a pillow close to their chest in the midst of first heartbreak—romantic and dreamy, even when everything is morose outside. my headphones deliver me soothing lullabies, and i allow my eyelids to relax and gently close. i focus on my breathing—who knew regulating a breath was such a wonderfully moving experience? i listen to the soft murmurs of john prine sing to me about summer's end while my love's controller-clamor and upstairs-laughter flows to the rhythm of sad guitar. i study how the tall, green plant across the room extends up toward the ceiling as i become closer to my own breath— i think to myself about this plant: we have something in common, you and i.  

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jessie caitlin bullard is a southern Californian writer and English graduate student at Cal State University Long Beach. She writes poetry and prose, cares for her cats, and plays video games. Her writing is published in Sunstroke Magazine and Postscript Magazine, among others, with work forthcoming in HALOSCOPE, Train River Publishing, and East French Press.