End Of The Year Collection - 2014 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Onyx Neon Press
Published: 2014-12-19T05:00:00+00:00

Her pencil stopped.

The ideas had vanished once again, so she decided to walk outside and sit on her front porch. The weeping willow in her yard inspired her on most occasions and she wondered how long it had existed to inspire others before her. The wind began to blow and the branches began to dance beautifully to a melody she could not hear. “What’s your story,” she asked the elegant willow. And then, her mind began to work again.

What’s your story?

Memories.

Youth.

Home.

Daddy…

Her father had grown up in this part of town! He had driven down the road she lived on, the road currently in front of her, when he was a teenager. He had attended the school down the street as a child. He had walked the train tracks that were perched upon the grey and rocky hill behind her house. These tracks that allowed trains to keep her awake at night were the same tracks that would allow trains to keep him awake at night back in the day. He had lived on Delmas Avenue in a house near the corner of Cherokee Avenue, before moving to his house on Burchwood. This was exactly three miles from where she currently lived in her “temporary” home, and three miles from where she was currently standing, seeking ideas from a weeping willow tree. She did not know much about her father’s childhood because he never really spoke about it, but she knew he was part of a much older generation than were most parents of the children her age. This made his childhood interesting to her. It seemed mysterious and as though it was an adventure she yearned to be part of. Historically, his childhood was the era of James Dean and the Cuban Missile Crisis. It was the era of doing the twist and other Motown grooves while Jacki Kennedy’s fashionable class was mocked by the ladies, and bright suits and wide ties were worn by the gentlemen. “The Andy Griffith Show” aired new episodes on Monday nights and Alfred Hitchcock had his own hour starting at 10:30 p.m. on Thursdays. This era seemed elegant and smooth, as if everything moved to the same rhythm, as if it moved to the rhythm of the willow tree. This historic era was the embodiment of her father’s youth. It encompassed moments and memories for him that made him who he was in the present, therefore creating certain aspects of her. These ideas were flowing rapidly in her brain. They would come to center stage with a strong presence, but then she would lose them and have to re-sculpt them with her imagination. All of this was taking place when she heard a sound that altered her train of thought. She looked up and saw an old Chevy that was racing down her street. The muffler was creating a loud noise that would usually frustrate her at any other time, but at this moment she realized that her contemplation of the past had somehow briefly brought the past to the present.

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