A mysterious past, an unrequited love, and a desperate need to find himself, fifteen-year-old Kalyn has enough to occupy him without being on the verge of a massive societal upheaval. Join Kalyn and his friends as they explore what it means to come...
I rise from my bed of leaves, the smell of fertile soil in my lungs. I must have fallen asleep in the garden again. Father no longer worries at these absences.
I have done this since I was a girl, seeking comfort in the land and the flowers when my visions turn dark. Their petals are better than a dreamcatcher at sifting through my unconscious thoughts, bringing light and clarity. Chasing away the shadows.
Their heavy fragrance permeates the tropical air. I breathe deeply. Stretch. I can no longer remember my nightmare in detail, but I can just make out the fuzzy shape of it.
Kalyn.
In the desert.
But of course he should have reached Inte by now. Kalyn and the rest. They left months ago. By now, he will have found what he is seeking. His home, his parents. I hope they were everything he dreamed, even if it means that he will never come back to me.
I am not one to try to capture a wandering soul. I know better than to try to fill the voids in a heart, for voids they will always be. A man must be complete before he can be anything else.
The rain falls on my loose hair until it straightens and clings to my back and shoulders. I tie it tight to wring out the excess and pin it high on my head. The plants bob happily under the nourishing patter.
I walk barefoot through overgrown paths, unbothered by my damp clothes. The rain is no reason to hide. It, like all things both good and bad, will pass. In the meantime, I will cherish it.
Mud squelches through my toes, paints my ankles. Even the grass sings with pleasure at the sky's generosity. Rain pours with regularity here. It is a way of life, but we do not need to be deprived to know that we are fortunate.
Every day there are travelers to remind us of our bounty. Why so few continue on into the unknown when they have found heaven will never cease to confuse me.
Men are built with an innate need to strive for more, for better. So few are content, even with everything. I think it would paralyze them. What would they do without their longing? Certainly not be happy.
So we welcome them, and we watch them go. I accept, but I don't hope to understand. I have learned better than to intervene.
I step into the ocean, minnows nibbling at the rich dirt caked into my skin. My arms float to either side. I look up into the pregnant, grey clouds and let the water wash me clean. Droplets kiss my closed eyelids, lead down my cheeks.
I miss Kalyn. Is that a silly thing to admit? We knew each other for a week, before he was off on his next adventure. I wonder what he has seen, what he has felt. Do I compare to the greatness of the wide open world?
I let the warm sea hold me. When the storm passes, I drift back to shore. The sun breaks over the horizon, and I let my sorrow fall from me like droplets. In time, I will be dry.
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