“Welcome home.” My mom and dad grip me in one of those suffocating familial bear hugs. “Everyone has missed you.”
We trudge through the cold wind, even though it’s summer, with my bags hoisted on our backs.
The old man overseeing the general store waves, welcoming me home.
The twins, who could barely toddle when I left, run through my ankles giggling with their father hot on the trail.
My ex’s teen sister stares from their doorway.
Missing are the old man’s wife and my dad’s best man.
I swear my ex’s sister was practically glued to her best friend …
The same buildings, brimming with the same faces, stand squat against the skyline.
Impatiently I rap my mom’s shoulder, “I thought they were building here?”
“Oh.” With a wave she spreads gossip like butter on hot bread, “I can tell you what’s been new …”
But, oh Resolute, I remember you.
Word Count: 150
This has been a post for What Pegman Saw, rules here and this weeks location, Resolute NU Canada
Please drop in and follow the little yellow man around the globe.
“Greetings from Montevideo!”
I write as neatly as I can across the postcard. I even think about slipping it into an envelope with a few pictures of my own.
A landscape shot here. Maybe the view from my office. It’s just the road but I find myself hoping you’re as curious about my life as I am about yours.
Maybe I’ll even slip in a photo of the twins. They’re six now but you never knew they were born.
I’ve never made it a habit to memorize the faces I make but I know I’m cringing.
Desperation, that’s what this smells like.
I turn the postcard over in my hands, even if I sent it completely anonymous … you’d know my writing from a mile away.
I’m sure it’d reek of wrinkled love poems and tear stained confessions.
It’d just become another love song you sing to another silly girl.
Word count: 149
Joining back in with What Pegman Saw this week. I haven’t participated in a couple of months I think. Rules are here and this weeks location is Montevideo, Uruguay