Sunday, January 10, 2016

Home - Short Story

He held my hand as we walked through the crowded alley of the night market.
He held it so tight, so tight it makes me feel like nothing could ever hurt me tonight. No, not only tonight, ever.

After ten minutes of pushing ourselves through the crowd, we finally made it out to an open space facing the nearby woods, probably 100 feet away from the clustered tents.

We smelled like hot dogs, buffalo wings, and cotton candy all mixed into one.
We laughed at how silly we were, two creatures who are afraid of the crowds, decided to jump straight into a pool of one.

We sat on the grass, looking away to the several kids playing football near the tents.
Their parents were not seen anywhere nearby, so I suppose they're the children of the market tenants.
Some of the bigger kids joined in and the game started to heat up.
After a while they got tired and went back into the tents.
We were left with nothing to see but the clear black sky.

The sky was starless. You cannot really expect to see stars in the middle of the city like this.
We stayed still for five minutes, and then ten, fifteen, and an hour went by without us saying a word.
Our hands kept holding each other as if they were afraid of getting lost.
Spellbound by our own thoughts, we did not mind.

And it was right there alongside the cheerful crowd not too far away.
It was right there in the middle of that comfortable warm silence.
There and then I knew, I was home.