Window

1

Blake Winston
The drive from the airport to my parents house was far more nostalgic than I ever imagined it to be.
Nostalgia. It is a bittersweet word, it made me happy remembering old memories and it also has made me sigh with a weary heart since they are all but memories.

Up in my head I pictured myself, sitting, in the back of a bijou taxi, typing away on my phone, texting my girlfriend about my flight and how much I'd miss her. However, the turn of events shook me to the core. Here I was a dumped 22 year old sitting at the back of, the only thing that matched up with my imagination, a bijou taxi, a grimace stuff on my face as I listened to the taxi driver go on and on about his teenage son. Give me a break.

The last thing I wanted was to hear about a teenager having a shitload of fun as the football quarterback. I was far from being a teenager and that was not something I wanted to be reminded of!

In desperate need to tune the old man off, I turned to me right and began viewing the world throw the tinted glass of the taxi. ( because I was at the prime of age and I didn't want nothing to do with pesky little teenagers. Ugh being a teenager was only cool when I was one, at least to me.)

The drive to home was about sixty minutes long and we had almost covered over thirty minutes of it, just twenty more minutes and I'd be in the neighbourhood where I grew up.
The twenty minutes before we reached the neighbourhood was nothing too exciting. The trees along the road seemed to sway as the evening breeze kissed their leaves goodnight.
I cleaned my neck, pushing my face against the cold window in order to get a better view of the infinite sky looming above us. To anyone looking at me, from outside the car, my face was definite to make them cringe and back away, because a face pressed against the window? Ew.
At that moment I didn't care what the world was looking at me like, it was the sky and the palette of colours swirling in it that intrigued me.
The time seemed to have frozen as my brown eyes looked at the sky.

It was as though the heavens and the universe wished for me to gaze upon the welkin. It was moments like this, when time slowed down, that my heart beat faster and somehow everything around me seemed like an artists work. It was these evanescent moments that remind me of the beauty of God's creation. The breathtaking and eternal creation.

The purple sky above seemed like an artists master piece; with faint purple and blue colours softly colouring the evening sky, dulcet rays of sunlight contoured the cotton balls of clouds making them the apex of the wide purplish blue yonder. I felt my mind halcyon and all traces of heartbreak from my very recent break up, vanish.

Just as we passed the board displaying "Yonderville" my heart skipped a beat. We were here, the place that contained memorable days of my childhood. The years I spent pulling pranks and what not with my little gang.

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Yes, Blake is a softy
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