“The earth sky was blue?” My Abigail presses her little nose against the glass and stares into black space.
My heart hurts for my ship baby, member of the in-between generation that will bridge those of us who left with those of us who will arrive.
“Blue like your eyes, baby. Beautiful blue.”
My child will live and die a life of artificial light – of steel walls, colourless sky.
“That’s cool, I guess.” Abigail shrugs and skips away, all youthful, giggling ignorance.
The realisation hardens in my chest. The in-betweens are the lucky ones. It’s me who’s cursed with blue.
Author bio: Brigitte Winter is a collector and teller of stories, a theatrical director, a cookie baker, a wannabe world traveler, and the Executive Director of Young Playwrights’ Theater, a Washington, DC nonprofit dedicated to inspiring young people to realize the power of their own voices through creative writing (www.yptdc.org). She has a passion for boundary-busting speculative fiction, and her current novel-in-progress is a pre-apocalyptic coming of age adventure. All of her celebrity crushes are on authors. You can follow her blog at thebrigittewinter.tumblr.com for anonymous magnetic poetry, errant street signs, and other word wonders.
In-between is part of 101 Fiction issue 5.
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