|Autumn (standard:other, 968 words)|
|Author: V.N. Leigh||Added: Jun 15 2002||Views/Reads: 1714/1||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Driving alone at night, and encountering the unexpected.|
The black night was laden with the crispness of autumn. The cool wind caressed my sun warmed skin with its chill and brought the season's scents to my nose. The clean smell of a landscape bracing itself for the purifying cold of winter. The smell that reminds you that life is all around and yet so easily grasped away. The full moon bathed the parking lot with enough light that the line that had always existed between night and day became questionable. I fumbled for my keys. I was alone. There were other people there, around me. People that cared about me, that I cared about and still this lonely nagging ache deep down in my heart told me that I was alone. Preparing for the heartless winter of adulthood that loomed as coldly and ominously before me as the frozen, loney winter loomed dangerously close to the end of fall. Even in the last week of August. Another year. How much things had changed. I couldn't carry on a twenty minute conversation with the girl I had confided in since I was 11. Somehow our two hour in depth conversations on the meaning of life and spirit had dwindled into polite twenty minute exchanges of, "so what have you been up to?" Those matters were too personal and too easily buried beneath the superficial matters of everyday living. Dating, careers, school, jobs, money had become more pressing, if less important, than the meaning of exsisting, the existence of a higher presence, and the unanswerable question, who am I? Who was I? I jiggled the keys in the lock. How was I going to stay awake the whole way home? Normally I would be wide awake but lately something, or a lack of something, had drawn all the strength, all the life from every part of my body. I setteled my heavy form into the seat and turned on the engine. The windshield fogged slightly. I turned on the defrost and waited as the fogginess was eaten away by patches of clarity. If only my muddled mind had a defrost, but that was ridiculous. I pulled out. As usual there was nothing on the radio. I flipped from channel to channel. Never satisfied with what I had. No one was. Always wanting more and that was the problem. What was it that made people so dissatisfied? Maybe they were just as lost as I was. I turned down the familiar road. It was empty, silent, devoid of life. My life. How familiar everything had become. Not the area, but my heart and my head. These same thoughts repeating over and over, these same feelings, clawing at my soul. They had become so familiar. What I had always thought set me apart, my quest for a deeper meaning, were just daily occurrences that I just skimmed over, just as my tires skimmed easily over the black glassy pavement. The rain laden road reflected the bright glare of my headlights, partially blinding me. I drove on. The heater breathed warm on my cold bare arms and the rain fell in a comforting steady drone, drumming rythmically against the fiberglass roof. It was those kinds of things that wrapped themselves around you and embraced you. They were unquestionable. They put me at ease for a time until those unending, nagging thoughts returned. I thought they had finally left me, so I could live a simple happy existence. Instead they were only covered for a time by the outside distractions. They always came back. However, there were those times when I could toss them aside momentarily, and live with a pleasant, care free manner. People loved me. So happy and light hearted. It was all a facade. A facade of superficiality, using what my mind considered the biggest crime to cover what I considered the biggest pain. Which is probably why I never felt comfortable as my other fun loving self. As much as the constant questioning caused so much internal turmoil, it was always there, and therefore comforting. It was a security blanket. I leaned my head back against the headrest. The rain droned; pointless patters on the impenetrable roof. So comfortable, both in my life and in my personal, tortured discomfort. I sought comfort in my discomfort? No wonder my life didn't make sense. No wonder there where times when I questioned my very existence. And then it hit me, literally. I was drawn from darkness by a bright light. It flashed across my face and startled me into conciousness as I watched it skim across the trees. Accompanying it was the sharp screech of tires on the black glass pavement. And then it was over. I breathed hard and placed a trembling hand across my chest as though I thought I could reach in and prevent the unwanted tremors of my heart. It had been so close. My mind could have been silenced. I let the tears flow and I leaned my head against the wheel, greatful. It was simple. I was alive. I didn't need to torture myself. Time was too short for that. I made a vow to stop sinking into myself and start living. I knew I would break it the minute I had another distraction, but for now it was my ease and my comfort. I eased out of the car and walked forward in the rain. A shattered headlight lay scattered around the cars. One less thing to guide me. The other driver, a foul mouthed man was so preoccupied with his chrome that he didn't notice me get out to examine the clash. It was old against new, shattered glass against bent chrome. Flash against a strangly missing light. I snickered and sighed and waited for someone to come help us clean up. Tweet
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