Here's a short story that I'd like to share with you, feel free to read and comment, or just read.

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The summer winds had died away, and only heat remained on the prairie grasses that spread like dancing strands of wheat along the vast open land. The trees were treasures, poking their lush branches up out of the solid earth ever few miles to dot the land with their scarcity. The echoes of the hooves of horses constantly reached the ears.

The land always seemed to be moving, shaping, and running wild with the buffalo. The broad plains, the tall stark shrubs and grasses, the sweet hollow air that blew in winds that forever kept pace with the lands. The silence was serene, and as the crickets chirped, it was a surprise to the ears.

The earth seemed to end here, the world seemed to fade. It was as if no human feet tread through here, that you would simply fall off the edge of the world. But it was wide and empty, and held wonder in ever small chunk of earth that lay flat before the eyes that trailed its outline that was miles long.

I stood there for hours at a time, under a small stout tree with wayward branches that skirted the ground and stretched unremitting to the sky. It was the only one in sight, and it was the very same one that mattered most to my memories.

It was at that very spot, under these small yellow gold leaves that I met Jim Walt; my childhood friend. We had played here for hours, chasing crickets, riding horses, and running along side his beloved hound dog Mart. We must have looked a sight those days. Two small children running wild amid grasses that towered over our heads and hid us from view every now and then.

The only sight of life along the wide and lonesome prairie road that swept like a path to nowhere on the plains. It was winding dirt, and held no interest to us kids. Not while there were snakes to avoid, cicadas and crickets to catch, cows to milk, and horses to ride and feed.

I remembered all this vividly as I let my eyes trail the lands again. Soaking up the wild winds, and the still ever-running country. I smiled to myself to see it just as it was left, in exception of Jim.

I had rode upon a train from the city to visit these lands that my heart yearned for. I had made the trivial journey to catch a breath of my childhood long passed. So much had changed as I looked down at my silk dress with its light orange color that hung loosely on myself. I looked at the shawl rapped lightly upon my head and neck and thought of just how different I was then back then.

A small pang of sadness hit me at the thought of ignoring my roots. I suddenly yearned to be in a sundress, just like the kind my mother once wore and made for me. I yearned for her home cooking and her voice. But most of all, I yearned for those wild summer days in the sun. With Mart rushing ahead of Jim and I and us chasing him with our bare feet kicking up the dirt.

I turned to leave, soaking in the last of the view, and running a quick hand down the tree trunk with its carving of our names. I smiled at the crooked letters, and the awkward heart. When suddenly a small nose tickled my hand. I turned to see Mart wagging playfully, a cricket in his mouth, his floppy ears dangling beside his saggy face. I grinned. Then a voice came from a few yards away and I turned to meet Jim's bright blue eyes and white smile.

(to be continued)

Fiction: 08/30/09 | Posted By: sparklingwave | 1 comment | Personal