Brief One

The Town


The tears in my eyes make it hard to see, but I keep walking. I know the way quite well by now. My feet follow the narrow path along the river. I have walked this path many times before. I follow the sound of the water. This path will take me home whether I want it to or not. It is the same every time. My feet step steadily one in front of the other despite my raging desire to turn back and run.

I love this place. It is beautiful, it is tranquil, and safe. It is home right now. But the place I have just left behind beckons me and I struggle to calm myself and keep going. Every step I take takes me further and further away from it and even though I know I will return again soon, I dread the moments that will have to pass until then.

The tears run down the side of my face. I hasten my pace hoping to outrun the pain, but it remains at the centre of my chest, and it will not go away until I am back there.

When I am there, everything is right. There is a calmness in the air and a calmness in my heart. I feel at peace. I feel content. I feel happy. But most of all, I feel like I belong. It is miles away from home, but it is home.

I have traveled a long way not knowing where my journey will end, but alas, I have arrived at it. I remember taking my first steps along the crowded street. It felt strange and unfamiliar then, and yet welcoming, inviting, accepting. I remember strolling aimlessly down through the square and along the bridge over the river. I remember wandering down the quiet streets on the other side, turning right, turning left, with no particular destination. I remember getting swallowed up by that town, sinking deeper and deeper into the very heart of it.

The rain drops hesitate on the way down creating a thin mist in the air. The breeze carries it along like a lace curtain. A few more steps and I am in front of the door. It closes behind me and the world remains outside locked out on the other side of it. I am in my own little world now, cozy and comfortable, and full of mind cluttering distractions. The town is gone now save for a faint memory lingering somewhere in the depths of my mind. I busy myself with the mundane routines of the day hoping it will bring the night sooner.

Night is the only thing separating me from the town. I must wait the night out for in the morning I will return there again. I close my eyes and drift off. Sleep is surely a waste of time but it comes quickly. It takes over my body and my mind and it takes me away from the town. To fight it would be pointless and I give in every time, my last conscious thought always the same. "The town awaits me in the morning."

The day is gray today and it makes the town appear tranquil. The thick clouds hide the sun and hang over the tops of the buildings like a heavy blanket. The narrow streets seem narrower, the tiny shops, tinier, the slow river under the bridge flows even slower swelled up from the recent rains. I step over the cobble stones and make my way down the river bank and down to the old town. This is my favorite spot. I can see the old houses from here, resting along the hill on the other side of the river and the tall pointy roof of the temple stabbing through the grey sky. I watch the blue-green water as it squeezes under the ancient stone bridge columns connecting the old town to the new, and the steady flow of cars and people passing over it. Eyes wide open, I take in the beauty of this place and try to permanently imprint it in my mind so that I may never forget it. I try to freeze this precious moment in my memory for ever. I do not know how many moments like this one I have left remaining here in this town. Perhaps many, perhaps only a few, but I savor each one like it is my last.

The sound of the bells echoes in the grey sky reminding of the inevitable. Time. Constant and unstoppable, time will pass over this town, changing it, aging it. Will it still be here thousands of years from now? I do not know and somehow this is not important right now. Right now, all that matters is this moment by the river bank, a minuscule grain of sand in a vast, endless desert, but a tremendous part of a single life.

I rise. It is time to go now and even though I know I will be back, I cannot help the sadness that comes over me as I walk back through the grey streets that take me away from here.

The town looks lovely in the rain. The rooftops glisten. The raindrops create beautiful patterns on the windows of the shops before falling to the ground and flowing away between the cobblestones like hundreds of mini rivers. I walk on as the rain washes over me washing away my sorrow, my sadness, washing away my very soul into this town forever. I walk on but my heart remains at the river bank.

My feet step steadily one in front of the other along the familiar path. The tears in my eyes make it hard to see but I keep walking. Each step takes me further and further away from the town, but I know, I will be back there tomorrow.

The sun rises over the damp rooftops. The town glistens in the morning sunlight, clean, fresh, and new. I open my eyes. A broad smile spreads across my face as the realization comes: I am home!