Salute to the Sun
Saluting the Sun by Helen McNulty

Helios’ Son

I swear I saw a yellow ball fly past in a chariot over the sky.

There was some young fella holding on to the reigns for dear life while a big winged horse looking creature swooped and swerved all over the shop. There must have been something in that burger. The barbeque obviously didn’t cook it correctly, or someone put some dodgy mushrooms in there.

The ball was coming for me, all guns blazing, there was a flash, sparks flew and the whole sky twisted in on itself. Then the thunderbolts came from no-where, although it looked, from the bruised blue clouds, like a big bearded lad threw them. 

 

Someone landed on the ground near the picnic. I ran to him, dusty and singed. I wasn’t sure whether he was alive or not. I took him in to my arms to attempt to breathe life back into him and as I did, the ball bounced back up into the sky. Bright and glorious. 

“Hello? ” I said to the lump of a fella in my arms. 

He didn’t answer. He stayed a stiff block of meat for a minute or so, or for forever, I was not sure, all I know is that he fluttered into fragments of sparkly gas and rose up and up into the air. Then I heard a laugh in the ether and a whisper of the word ‘Auriga’.

When I looked up, the sky had turned dark, and there was the shape of it all in the sky before me. 

 

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Wicklow Mountains, Ireland

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