Wrinkled Air ...

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I was sitting outside on the porch looking down to the pond. I could see the horse drinking the cold water from it. The sky was blue, clouds fluffier than fluffy-white. It was a beautiful day. My cellphone rang, I looked quickly at the caller ID, ready to silence it if it was a number I didn't recognize. Telemarketers had somehow got hold of my number, they were becoming a nuisance. It was Skip, my husband. While we were talking, I was looking down at the pond ... sky, clouds. I was relaxed ... the sunny day was helping me with my grief. I had lost my son a few months ago. I needed the light to keep the darkness away. I sat forward quickly ... I began to mess up my words to Skip because of what I saw. Skip! You aren't going to believe what I am seeing! The very fabric of the air had begun to shimmer, wrinkle up in front of me. I was on the porch in my chair ... the air it was happening at was outside the porch ... about 6 feet away. Oh Skip! I watched the air wrinkle as if an unseen hand was trying to pull it apart like a curtain. I said, "Tommy!" Skip knew what I meant. I knew it was Tommy! He never did appear ... and the air began to smooth back out in that spot ... I could see through it as it happened ... how can you describe ... wrinkled air? Strange things have happened in my lifetime ... if I didn't see them to know it was true, it'd be hard to believe. I know what I saw ... and I know it was ... my son, Tommy. This was the day the very air wrinkled in front of my eyes ... only in one spot ... as if Tommy would open the fabric of air, pull it back ... step out to speak to me. I wouldn't have been surprised at all. I know ... things happen. He didn't step out ... I was sitting on the edge of the chair ... peering with all my might to see him. I didn't see him ... I didn't hear him. I only saw the wrinkled air.