Home || Short Stories v.2

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“I just want to go somewhere.” I said with a sigh. “Anywhere will do; it's just that this old city is becoming boring and I want to live in new places. I want to see new worlds and experience different cultures. I am sick of seeing the same scenery and the same streets and the same restaurants…”

I trailed off because I realized that I sounded like a child that was not getting what she wanted.

You got that dreamy look in your eyes and I knew you were going to go off on one of your poetical sprees so I leaned comfortably against the railing of the balcony and waited.

  “I love this place.” You began, and I nodded because I knew you did. “I love going to a secluded beach in the evening and watching the sunset while I talk to God; I love dipping my toes in the water and listening to the waves as they crash against the rocks and thunder with majesty. But I think what I love the most is sitting on one of those rocks and watching the heavens cry, because I think they do, you know. I think the tears of all the people, of the animals and all the hurting gather up into a giant cloud and then… and then it cries. I love the sound of tears hitting the water because it reminds me that Someone is collecting those tears and all the oceans and all the seas are holding the tears of those who cry."

I felt a lump rise in my throat and I was about to say something but you weren’t finished.

  “I love the restaurant down the street because I celebrated my sixteenth birthday there and I think that being sixteen is a lot like the color peach, or aqua for it is subtle and yet bursts with life and vivacity. I think being sixteen is like lilacs or a half blown rose; being sixteen is half-made beds, playing the piano late in the evening, long journal entries and spontaneous dances. It's road trips, the Moonlight Sonata, and thoughtful dreams. I love being sixteen."

I listened to you as you spoke and it was like you weren’t even speaking to me. You were looking out across the busy streets and watching the people as they walked below us and yet your words grabbed my attention and pulled me off whatever high horse I had caught a ride with. Suddenly you turned around and smiled that beautiful smile of yours.

  “I think both of us will go on incredible adventures someday.” You said with certainty. “And I think the thirst for travel and knowledge is an amazing thing, but if I ever go somewhere, even if it was to the beautiful castles in Europe, or the rolling hills of Ireland, I know that my heart will always long to be here, right here. For it is this place that holds all the memories; all the heartaches and joys. And I know that no matter where I go, the sky will never look the same as it does at this spot. The stars won’t shine the same way and even the moon will not sparkle his diamond coat the way it does here. The sun will not cast its rays through the clouds and… well, this is… this is home.”

I shook my head at your words and smiled, but tears were forming in my eyes.

You wrapped your arms around me in a hug.

  “I’m sorry, I did not mean to make it sound like I was not sympathetic with your feelings of dislike for this city.” You said apologetically. “I was just…”

  “No.” I said, interrupting you. “You showed me just how much you care; for people, for memories, for moments. You showed me just how much this place means to me and I think you are right.” I took a deep breath and swallowed, wishing I had a way with words like you did. “I still want to travel, but this place will always be home. And it is rather beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked with a smile.

You nodded and returned my smile, and we leaned against the railing again, our open hair blowing in the wind and the scent of lilacs wafting up to tickle our noses.

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In an effort to become a better writer and not feel so shy about sharing my work with you guys, I have started this new series. I truly hope you will enjoy my short stories as I experiment with relationships and different life-situations and strive to put my heart and soul into whatever I write.

  Amy Jane