goodbye.
the uber's engine purred beside me, a comforting hum that seemed to extend a silent farewell. my gaze lingered on my house, a repository of memories, as a group of men meticulously loaded my belongings into the waiting truck. it's finally time i leave this suffocating city behind and start anew.
"morning, miss," greeted the driver, his dimples adding a touch of warmth to his weathered face. "morning," i replied, slipping into the plush backseat. my bag rested on my lap, and i closed my eyes, seeking a moment of reprieve. a sudden, harsh cough erupted, its abruptness cutting through the calm like a jagged edge.
the cool embrace of the air conditioner surrounded me, its low grumbling providing a counterpoint to the rhythmic sounds of the road. the driver was considerate enough to turn the radio on. shifting on the seat, i let my head lean against the window, the passing scenery a blur of buildings and streets.
i fished out my journal from my bag. as i opened it, a few medical documents fluttered out and i hastily shoved it back into my bag with my jaw clenched. amidst the quiet hum of the car and the air conditioner and the sounds of the pages of my journal flipping, my gaze fell upon a particular page.
My Bucket List
chewing my inner cheek, i traced my finger down, reading what i had written the night before.
1. Stargaze (PICNIC STYLE AT NIGHT WOULD BE COOL OR CAMPING)
2. Cycle at night (remember to rent a bike or something)
3. Go to a night festival (mom said the food there is good and the fireworks are amazing)
4. Try to stop smoking (LOL)
5. Bake cookies (it'll be fun to bake with someone)
6. Enjoy Christmas (Snowball fights, snow angels & build a snowman)
"miss, it's gonna be a longer journey than i thought." the driver suddenly remarked, glancing at me through the rear mirror. "the main road is jammed because of an accident so we have to drive through the other way." he steered, turning into another corner. i simply hummed, my eyelids slowly getting heavier.
[☀️]
by the time i woke up from my nap, the uber had already came to a gentle halt. the door opened with a soft creak and i stepped out onto the gravel driveway. i felt a shift in the air—a departure from the constant buzz of the city to the serene embrace of the countryside. the earthy scent of summer hung in the air, a blend of blooming wildflowers and the warmth of the sun-soaked soil.
it was a nice change. a good change in fact.
"fresh air," i breathed out. underneath my feet, the gravel crunched, a chorus to the distant melody of cicadas weaving through the trees. the late afternoon sunlight bathed the landscape in a golden glow, casting long shadows that danced across the cottage and the surrounding fields. it was a tableau of tranquility, the lazy serenade of a summer day winding towards evening. unfortunately, the serenity didn't last long as another cough left me harshly.
in the fields and meadows surrounding the cottages, farmers toiled with the bounty of the season. children, their laughter carried by the breeze, played in the open spaces nearby. their joyful energy added a sprinkle of innocence to the land.
my new home, a quaint cottage nestled amidst the rolling hills which belonged to my parents, stood with a timeless grace. the windows, adorned with lace curtains, framed scenes of sunlight filtering through the leaves of nearby trees.
i licked my lips and turned, thanking the driver as he went off. beside my cottage, the neighboring house echoed the same rustic charm. a young girl, her silhouette painted in the amber hues of the setting sun, moved gracefully in the backyard. clothes hung on a line, swaying gently with the breeze. she stopped for a while to stare at me and offered a smile to which i returned.
as i stood there, absorbing the sights and sounds, the distant hum of an approaching truck grew louder. the driver greeted me with a nod. the truck rumbled to a stop, and the process of unloading began. each box and piece of furniture found its place within the cottage.
the air inside was different—a blend of aged wood, sunlight, and the distant smell of my parents lingered. the rooms, though unfamiliar, resonated with a quiet welcome. sunlight filtered through sheer curtains, casting patterns of warmth that painted the walls in hues of comfort and possibility.
"miss, where should i put this?" one of the men called out, carrying one of my furniture.
"over there. thanks."
the sun, now lower in the sky, casted long shadows that stretched across the fields. "we're done, miss." one of the men came to me. i hurriedly pulled out my wallet and gave them their cash, thanking each of them for helping me with my move. now as i stood at the door, watching the truck drive away and farmers work. my hand momentarily went to my pocket, grabbing the familiar box and lighter in hand.
i need a smoke.
