What Lightning Means to Me
very short story
Back in 1981, I was struck by lightning when I was working forestry for the tribe. I should've been seriously injured but that voltage only knocked me out of my boots and sent me crashing to the ground. I was bruised but I only spent one night in the hospital as they monitored my heart rhythm. When I returned home to the reservation, I was greeted by Lester FallsApart. He was happy that I'd survived.
"Your new Indian name is Lightbulb," he said.
He moved in for a hug. But we weren't friends enough for that closeness. So I shook his hand instead. We both felt a huge shock. I looked at my palm and saw the word DON'T burned into my skin. Lester held his palm out at me and I saw that SURRENDER was burned into his skin.
"Jeez," Lester said. "My word is sad. It wants me to give up."
"Yeah," I said. "My word feels like fear."
And that's how Lester and I became best buddies. Separate, we were lonely and afraid. But, together, we were a mythical command.
If dreams were thunder
and lightning was desire
this old house woulda burnt down
a long time ago
“Separate, we were lonely and afraid. But, together, we were a mythical command.” Such an excellent, beautiful conclusion Sherman. Thank you for this story. I’ll be sharing it with my students.