2/22/2008

Home-Bound

I was cleaning house (my docs folder) and ran across a few short stories that I had written a while back. I am planning to post a few stories and poems so I hope you like what you read and please feel free to leave a comment...

So... Read...

Home-Bound

I take a seat by a window. Cars speed by and I wonder where is that person off to. What errand must be done today? Are they speeding off to work, or are they hurrying home?

Home... what a beautiful word. A word that can conjure feelings of safety and comfort, fear and anxiety, longing and excitement. I sit back and let the constant mechanical hum lull me.

I'm home bound...

I close my eyes and recall the faint perfume of jasmine welcoming me as I walked home in the evenings. The oak trees whispering, urging me on, "hurry... hurry... head home... head home...". I pull a worn photo from out of my wallet. It's old and the colors are fading, but I can still see my friends and I, we're going out... to dinner perhaps? Look at us, smiling, laughing, enjoying each others company. It's been so long. I can sympathize with the dog-earred photo. I too feel the effect of time on my body. My skin is wrinkled, my eyes aren't as bright, and I feel like I've been wrung out and hung to dry, but soon... soon all this won't matter.

I'm home bound...

A flyer appears out of nowhere and sticks to the window. A two movies for the price of one night at the Tower. I can't help but smile when I think of the Tower... My first kiss happened in the balcony. Being kissed and having your breast fondled doesn't seem so bad in the dark. As suddenly as it appeared, the flyer blew away, continuing it's journey, crying out to the town, "two movies for the price of one... two movies for the price of one..." "I must make it a point to go to the Tower," I say out loud. soon... not yet...

I'm home bound.

I get up from my seat, and walk up to the door. My heart is racing, I'm breathing fast and hard, I start to sweat. I can feel the excitement, or is it anxiety (I have never known the difference between the two) welling up inside. I timidly place my hand on the door knob and slowly open the door... Nausea rises from my belly and I can feel the burn of acidic bile on my throat. I see black spots before my eyes, my legs turn to wet noodles, almost giving away underneath me... I slam the door shut and brace my back against it, fighting to stay conscious and trying my darnest to keep my lunch down. I look at these walls, my prison and sanctuary, and I start to cry. I stumble back to my seat by the window and let the comforting mechanical hum of the refrigerator lull me...

Cars speed by and I wonder... Where could that person be off to?

You see, I'm homebound...

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