@FreshFragrantEgg's Gallery

trophy

Back HomeI haven't been back home in a long time but I should as the darkness creeps in. I race against the cold, fumbling around with my numb hands the wood I brought back. Putting them into the flames of the fireplace, I lay on the couch, surrounded by the organized mismatch of his office, threads and cloth ready for his clients. That is where hopefully he'll be back from. Even after he let me stay here, it feels wrong for me to be here, much less use one of his blankets to sleep on the couch. At least it's not cold, the warmth of the fire bringing me some comfort as opposed to the years without this. Before I had to fight the seasons as the wind hissed and cut my hands and stung my cheeks. Each day I struggled to get to tomorrow and it was sometimes easier not to imagine that, having the snow bury and forget me underneath the pine tree forests. But each day I made it to the next as the snow melted and if I was lucky, there may be a rest stop or soup kitchen providing some respite. But no matter the time and distance, that small town never leaves the back of my mind. How could I have lived a life in a place so small and confined? The many faces remembered me through the crowd, holding shallow conversations and surface level pleasantries. I was so stupid to believe that they knew me, thought about me, cared about me throughout the celebrations and harvests. And yet nothing changed. As they yelled over my voice, berating me and forcing me to face their disapproval, they kept hollowing me out. I couldn't fight it as the words and years gouged a hole into me. Grabbing my shoulders, words spilling out of their mouths trying to shut me up. It finally took for me to utter, "No" that I realized in my mind something broke, for them to truly snap, and for them to take a swing at me and make sure my face will... CRACK. "Agh, what was that?" His voice tore me out from the past, dragging me back to the present. Twisting my head, I peered out to check with just one eye open. Seric is standing at the doorway, his boots having broken some firewood at the entrance. Shoot, sorry for that. I shouldn't have left it there. His voice was now a hush, he whispered, "Sorry for the noise. And I'm sorry for the firewood." "Are you asleep right now?" I pretended to be, letting myself hear him take off his coat, feeding the fire, and adjusting my blanket? He let out a sigh from his day, sitting down next to me, laying his head against mine, and he said, "Good night, Clay." I thought he didn't hear, keeping it just barely above a whisper. "You too, Seric." But he just chuckled, and I could feel a smile creep across his face. I don't know who fell asleep first, but tonight, in such a long time, I finally felt at ease.