Echoes of a cloudy day

Echoes of a cloudy day

Status: In Progress

Genre: Memoir

Houses:

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Status: In Progress

Genre: Memoir

Houses:

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Summary

A cross between a journal and a memoir. (Not sure yet)
A mixture of fiction and non-fiction.
Written in third person point of view.
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Summary

A cross between a journal and a memoir. (Not sure yet)
A mixture of fiction and non-fiction.
Written in third person point of view.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Back to the city

Author Chapter Note

Back to the city, he is in front of his friend's house, where he will be staying.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 26, 2017

Reads: 47

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 26, 2017

A A A

A A A

January 25, 2017

That nostalgic noise, how much he had, in equal parts, both missed it and cursed it.

The roaring of engines: the cry of the fast demon whose blood flows through asphalt veins, but also the gentle echo of waves clashing continuously, as if he were by the sea.
Ok, the last comparison was quite a stretch... he knew that well. He, more than most people.

There he was anyway: the fatidic doorbell inches before him. Yet he wished he were still home, in the countryside, maybe even in bed, or outside, petting the occasional stray cat or two.

No use thinking about that anyway. Why was he so reluctant? The man was a friend of his and was more than happy to shelter him for some days. For free even! Maybe THAT was the problem, he pondered.

He mentally rehearsed the speech he would make. That was necessary. Or maybe he cared too much about what other people thought of him. Hard to say.

A message from his friend. Looks like he was going to get home in ten minutes or so. Rather than having to deal with his friend's parents alone, he decided to wait.
Not that they were bad people. Far from it. It was just having to make conversation. THAT, he was bad at, and disliked. In fact, he told himself, the better the people the harder the talking became. Yeah right, who was he kidding...

Oh here he comes.

Somehow he felt overwhelmed with everyone's greetings and soon found himself inside the apartment, pushed left and right, his friend's father holding out a mobile phone in his direction, apparently involved in a video call, introducing him to some... relative? Maybe.
Gradually the caos died down. He tried the practiced speech just to fail halfway, took out his gift - a specialty cheese from his hometown - watched them eat some, praise it, before managing to retire to the room that had been prepared for him.

He slumped on a chair. How tiring everything was...
The laden skies are but momentary. It will be ok.


© Copyright 2017 wayfarercat. All rights reserved.

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