My Yellow Brick Road

I am writing this on board Delta flight 7670 heading up the coast, back to California. The ocean is to my left and the sun is setting. A path is given to me in the distance on the horizon, leading me all the way home, in the form of a color. I'll explain. The sky is forming different levels of colors. At the top, a grayish blue, which fades down into a green, and then to yellow, to orange, and finally to pink. Similar to the shades found in a rainbow sherbert. At the bottom, a bright pink layer, as bright as she would have hoped it to be. I instantly know my idea to return home is indeed the correct one. I told myself that I was going home to see her, to sit at the cemetery and talk to her, and I’ve had many doubts the last few days, for one reason or another. But here she is, leading me all the way home. I know that it may seem absurd to some, but these are the things that give me a bit of comfort nowadays. The comfort of her touch and of her glances are all but memories. The comfort of waking up next to her, and falling asleep with her in my arms are only in my mind, and now I look toward earthly signs that she is indeed here with me, helping me. Loving me. The sky is now a deep deep blue, as dark as the ocean it reflects, but the pink still remains. As vibrant and beautiful as it was before. The moon shines through this blue canvas, a bright white light in the sky yet the sun is still creating this pink sliver of comfort. It is her. Descending into Los Angeles now, finally home, it remains for another few minutes before it disappears over the edge of the earth. As I am told to close my computer, all that is left is the moon illuminating this glorious night.