brick

The red brick house held the memories.  She smiled as she traced her finger over the picture of her old house.  The bats, the mice, the rat snake under the porch, Winter Wonderland, the long driveway that seemed never ending, the tire swing, the secret passageways, the stone wall, the big red tractor, the climbing tree, the corn fields, the spring house.  Her last memories of her family, faded.  Memories of leaving, to meet for the drop and swap.  The red volvo in the parking lot...or not.  The barbed wire fence that sliced her knee.  The woods with endless treasures, ducking and dodging in bright colors to avoid hunters who paid no attention to trespassing signs.  The hermit crab who went missing and was never found.  The three legged cat who kept the house safe, leaving reminders of her actions with mice and birds on the doorstep.  Creating go carts out of plastic piping and racing down the hill in front of the house with reckless abandonment.  Sword fights against villains and trying to steal keys from alligators who would lock her in jail.  The brick house seemed slightly less advantageous in the pictures than in the memories.  The newly painted trim did not capture the memories of impromptu adventures and treasures.  Instead, the facade seemed to reflect the sentiments of the family.  Arguments echoing up from the vents late at night.  Empty promises and empty mailboxes especially on birthdays.  Hidden by a new coat of paint or a new story, empty excuses.  The picture did not reflect rainbow cats or paper trees, but told only a small version of the story.  She turned the photograph over, slowly, imagining more images on the other side.  The glossy white reminded her of her innocence while living there.  The dreams of leaving the small town and changing the world.  Somehow, through a maze of corn, wheat, trees, bugs, hallways, buses, and ever changing schedules it seemed possible.  She smiled and put the picture of her old brick house away, hoping the current residents enjoy the house as much as she did, still wondering if the lost hermit crab found a small space and is an invisible tenant of the old house. 

Panting

The night was quiet. The moon shone down, dusting them with innocence.  For a moment, she forgot she would be leaving this town in a few months.  Instead, she quieted her breath and smiled while she listened for footsteps.  She had played this game before.  So many years later, the game had not changed.  It was something she could rely on.  The rules were the same.  Just her body had changed. Somehow she felt monstrous in her small hiding place, trying to remain inconspicuous as he tried to find them.  She took a deep breath, gazing at her surroundings.  The open field looked different at night, like a sea, waves blowing in the wind.  The dew had already settled on the grass and twinkled in the moonlight.  The stars spanned overhead, overlooking the escapade and winking with amusement.  She would miss this.  Suddenly, she saw movement in the shadows.  Far away, people ran in the darkness and hid beneath a tree.  She realized this would be one of her last nights without responsibilities.  She let the moment wash over her.  Then, she heard the twig snap.  She glanced to her right and saw a flashlight.  She jumped from her place and made a dash for a tree, surprised at the speed of her reactions.  She heard the footsteps behind her.  Her breath became ragged.  Her feet moved on their own underneath her, taking long strides.  She was surprised at her agility.  Until, she began to run downhill on the wet grass.   Suddenly, her feet were sliding out from underneath her.  Her body slid down the hill, covered in grass and dirt.  She lay on her back, gazing up at the night sky, gasping, panting for breath, and laughing at her fall.  She had lost, she had been found.  As she caught her breath, she looked at her friends and their surroundings, appreciating they had a moment to feel like kids again.