Every ending can be looked at through the eyes of wonder or the eyes of fear. Not to sound like the memes and the positive sayings we always see posted around the social sites – seemingly by desperate people searching for some affirmation that shit happens for a reason. But I truly am a witness to the shit happening and I can tell you that when one door shuts you are slowly led into a room where there are several doors for you to choose from. Nothing needs to be permanent or forever – let your heart lead the way and the door will open for you leading you to another stop on the whirlwind of life. You have it all inside of you and outside of you – never forget that its the surroundings that benefit from your presence.
He heard the footsteps behind him.
Time was flying – soaring and blowing in circles.
He checked the time on his phone – he was 5 minutes late. Tanya would be probably 20 minutes late so he was early.
He heard the sounds of the subway above him on the elevated platform and then saw the sparks falling onto the streets below him.
He was walking quickly, a dozen red roses under his arm and a derby cap upon his head.
“Tanya.” When he said her name to himself he felt the soft touch of her lips…upon his lips. Love can be that way – just a sense of her scent and he would find himself hurting. A nagging pull inside of him causing a fire in his gut…a flame that is doused only by the touch of her lips upon her lips, her hand inside his or the sight of her eyes looking into his….
He found himself across from the Franklin Hotel in a park, sitting on their bench, the one that was dedicated in memory of David and Diane by their loving children. He checked his phone for a message or a missed call. Nothing there.
He watched as children ran across the grass, dogs ran and played and the day came to an end.
Tanya…she said she would be on time now he is just wondering if she will ever show up. An hour and then a half…
His phone beeped – a text message.
“Sorry – I cannot do this anymore…goodbye.”
He stood up, lit a cigarette, left the roses on the bench and walked away.
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They come out of nowhere. Blue skies and then suddenly clouds begin to form. At first they are all separate and take on their own shape and form – but suddenly the come together strong enough to block the sun or any sense of warmth or perceived warmth. The wind picks up and the dust and the loose trash begin to swirl and the first drops begin to ascend from the dark clouds.
That old coal train whistles in the distance and stops. The workers from the nearby plant walk off slowly. Cigarettes dangling from their lips or suspended between two fingers.
The old man who lives in the cabin is there to meet the train that comes and goes once a week.
The pages of a book are turning quickly, the hands on the clock on the courthouse on Main Street are spinning out of control.
The old man and woman sit on their porch taking it all in.
The children race the train as it slowly leaves the old man and the station. They stop running as the lake looms ahead and the dark clouds have covered any sense of blue or daylight.
Suddenly the clouds that formed have turned into a time machine…
The station is gone, the children now sit on their porches watching as the clock on main street, still out of control dictates the rhythm and speed…
The clouds, in formation, have left the sky and the cool night has fallen…the screen door slams shut.
It comes out of nowhere, the years they formulate and dissolve quickly, one by one…
