Throwback Story:
I love telling stories about women discovering their power. This story was published in my first book, She Lives (available on Amazon), and it’s representative of where my mind was at the time. I knew I had power, but I needed some reassurance. I needed to feel seen. Shoot, if I’m being honest, I still feel that way sometimes.
Anyway, November is just a couple days away, and my main focus for the month is finishing my first novel! Enjoy the story and wish me luck!
Power
By: Katrina Mitchell
Power
She is sitting on the curb outside of her Philly apartment. It’s summertime, and she has her long dreads pulled up into a ponytail at the top of her head. She wears thick, oversized silver hoop earrings, a sleeveless, burnt orange top, jeans that flare at the knee, and wedge sandals. Around her neck is a small Gye Nyame pendant on a thin, tarnished silver chain. Her face is serious and her eyes are wide. She’s on the verge of smiling or crying.
She stands and walks slowly down the street. Her arms are folded across her chest, like she’s cold, even though it’s a hot day. She smiles slightly at the passerby when he says “Hey”. She adjusts her top, pulling it down to cover the slight midriff. She pauses and looks around, expecting to catch someone staring at her. People stand around, talking to each other through car windows or screen doors, but no one seems to notice her.
She lets herself lean against the light pole, wrapping her right arm around it, and bracing with her left hand. Her touch makes the light above her turn on, as do all the others that dot her street. She stands under the artificial light and bathes in it. The sky slowly turns from orange to red to purple, before settling into a deep black. She watches the people, but is starting to feel invisible.
He approaches her from behind. “What, no stars tonight?” He says in her ear. “You’re late,” she says, “so the stars will be too.” “Baby, don’t you know I’m always on time?” he says. She laughs, and tears fall down her cheeks. He slowly lifts his arms, and the moon grows, settling into a spot behind two rowhouses, where only the top half can be seen. Her eyes flutter, and stars begin to appear.
In her mind, she thinks of the fall. That night in early November when they first came together to make the night. In the cold Philly air, wearing puff jackets and Timbs. Her hair down, as if to guard her neck from the wind. She remembers that she was young, and scared. But he reminded her of the power she had, a power that even he couldn’t master… over the seasons, over the sun. “You can do everything,” he said. And so, she did.
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Also, catch my poetry videos on TikTok or my short films on YouTube.
