I took a sip of my tea off my mother’s delicate cup. The fragrant scent of peppermint Christmas eases my mind. I sense warmth in the air, but the sun is still accompanied by the clouds. A few gentle freezes frequently blew my hair, causing it to brush against my cheek softly. But no matter how hard I try to let my soul enjoy these little things, loneliness deemed to be felt. Here I am sitting on my cushioned chair in my back porch, with my eyes feasting on hues. The fields of blossomed variations of flowers have taken over my backyard. This lively color-filled atmosphere is the reason why I brought up my unintended visit to the filling station, in the countryside, of course.
He was still there, very much present, looking at me with a slight grin on his face while flipping the pages of a magazine.
“And then? Aren’t you going to tell me what happened after you arrive at there? Don’t leave my curiosity hanging,” He said, gently pestering me to continue my story.
“There isn’t much to tell actually,” I began again, “I saw a hairy old man, wearing a monkey suit. Not your kind of suit, I suppose. In addition to that, he was also quite fat. So it was definitely not a pleasant sight.”
My hint of humor enlightened him. He chuckled, “But was that really the only thing you’ve encountered there? Tell me more, why does this place intrigue you so much?”
“Not quite. I’ll get to that, just let me finish,” I said, while trying to put myself back together. I was getting a bit weary because of the
The sound of the neighbor’s barking dog and magazine he held refreshed my memory.
“Well, you can’t help but notice how dull and filthy it was. It strikes me so much – perhaps a tad bit too much that it overwhelms my brain. You wouldn’t like the pl...
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...r him, and his sons. Somebody embroidered the doily, waters the begonia and arranges the cans. I need that. I mean, everybody does. These little actions might seem insignificant, but it’s an evidence of unconditional love. It makes you feel complete, and nothing else matters.”
It takes time for me to digest his words, and experience what he feels. How could my thoughts be so shallow? How could I be so condescending? I may be wealthier, more educated, but without a love like that, the quality of my life will always be poorer than them. They have everything that I have been living without.
Suddenly, all at once, I felt unwanted and cheated by life because of how unfair everything seemed.
“Well then, it’s simple. If somebody could love every bit of that hopeless place and that old, fat, hairy man, then somebody definitely can love you, too. Somebody loves us all.”
“Yes, that’s just what I can’t understand, looking back. But tell me now, Hedda, wasn’t it love that was at the bottom of that relationship? Wasn’t it, on your side, as though you wanted to purify
"You look like you want to ask a quesiton, so you might as well ask it while we have some relative peace and quiet" He stated, his focus going to his food as he continued to eat, though his ears were all for
“Of course I do, you maladroit cretin. Besides, I don't see why I should. At least not in a crummy old jail cell in Scotland Yard. Bedlam seems more of my taste. All the grandeur, with a not-so-subtle
"Barely," Poe laughed. He ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair in an attempt to remove the sand he felt clinging to each strand. "It's quite a crazy story actually. You may not believe it."
The arrival of winter was well on its way. Colorful leaves had turned to brown and fallen from the branches of the trees. The sky opened to a new brightness with the disappearance of the leaves. As John drove down the country road he was much more aware of all his surroundings. He grew up in this small town and knew he would live there forever. He knew every landmark in this area. This place is where he grew up and experienced many adventures. The new journey of his life was exciting, but then he also had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach of something not right.
The chilly air and squishy bugs hit my face as I drove through the prairie. My four wheeler sputtered as I topped it out back in the country. Loud distracting barking of dogs as I zoomed by made it feel exhilarating because I imagined them as cheetahs chasing me like I was a zebra. The beautiful sunset shined on the beans and corn and was nearly blinding ,and the sand fought with my tires taking me side to side on the road. As I drove past a shiny chicken barn shimmering in the sun I saw a flock of eagles on a ripe manure pile looking over the fields for mice. The tall trees were swaying back and forth from the strong wind. Some clouds appeared aflame because the bright orange sunset contrasted with the dense purplish blue clouds giving
“Now there can't be such a place. Not a place without love. I can't imagine it.”
“Wow. That is very interesting,” I said “It seems like you have had plenty of adventures. Can you tell me more about them, please?”
I lay transfixed, in a field of flowers. The brilliant yellow skyscrapers were dwarfed by the endless ocean of blue. Feeling the cool breeze over my lips, I felt a rush of freedom and sighed contently. Even with the breeze, the warmth of the sun reached me and it wrapped me in its calmness. I could smell of the freshness of the air and the dampness of the soil beneath me that soaked my dress.
“Well, first thing is your story wasn’t stupid. Seriously,” Ted said in an almost patronizing voice.
“Um besides the fact that you found it in the middle of the quad when we were walking back from the party last week?” she questions, her hands on her hips as she narrows her eyes at you.
There is something to be said about lying on one's back in an open field hour upon hour, staring up at a vast, blue sky. With no one around and not another house for miles, it is a great place to be alone, to listen. In the country, I can pick up all the wonderful sounds of nature commonly lost amidst the bustle of the city. The wind speaks as it blows across the land, whistling through the trees. Crickets rub their wings in song for anyone to hear. An unseen friend scurries beneath the fallen leaves, as an owl above questions who is there.
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...
The scent of bleach has become somewhat natural to me. The light coloured walls are becoming more homely, but perhaps that’s what is expected to happen considering I find myself gazing upon them day after day. It isn’t as if I intended it to be this way. It is my choice, after all, to sit here day in, day out. I can’t bear to leave the other boy’s side. Not after this. This is all my doing. Staying here is the only way I can even begin to put things right.