Gig economy

His ears rang. The concert crowd was beginning to exit the venue, some being in more of a hurry than others. He didn’t know where to go next, and thus were in no hurry to get there. The city streets would be there all night, allowing for plenty of time to explore both the physical and emotional state he was in. It had been a tremendous gig, one of the best, and he didn’t want the moment to end just yet.

Ambivalently, he waved a glow stick in greeting at group of other fans, then decided to stick around for a while. He knew he’d never see such happy faces again.

Love, probably

He trembled. The wording had to be exactly right, lest he blow his one chance at this. Writing in longhand was not something he was used to doing, but he sensed that the gesture of having gone through the effort would count in his favor. He took a deep breath, then reread the printout again. One word at a time, he copied them into manuscript.

After having copied the words, he was exhausted. The only thing left to do was to put the piece of paper into an envelope and post it.

Oh bear

It was gone. All of it. Completely. Nothing of the dirt and dust remained, and the stained glass shone as if made anew. Finally, after all this time, it was possible to make out what all the different pieces were supposed to represent.

It turned out to be bears. Bears engaged in a very unmentionable activity.

She did not expect to find that in a church setting. Yet, for some reason, she was pleasantly surprised.

Branching paths

The leaves had begun to fall again. This was something she could hear, instinctively, without really reflecting on when she’d learned how to do it. It had something to do with how the branches pushed against the window. The leaves made a kind of brushing noise, while the bare twigs made more of a rasping sound. As a child, she had sometimes thought it sounded like something grasping at the window. Now, it only made her smile, the familiarity of the cycles comforting.

It had turned out alright. Both then and now.

Nota bene

You forgot your book after your last visit. It is filled with notes, stickers and comments, almost all pages having some additional scribble the printers had not thought to include. Some pages are more scribble than print, and these are undoubtedly the most interesting. Upon reading them, I cannot help but smile – these are definitely your words, in all senses.

I know you will want them back, and soon. But I hope you will indulge me as I postpone missing you for just a few more moments.

Birds

As soon as he stepped off the bus, he heard them. The sound of them taking flight all at once was like the ocean roaring, a strange sound in this decidedly inland location. Whatever had startled them into motion had also urged them into their characteristic cawing and countercawing, filling the air with enough noise to drown out the ambient sounds of the city. The jackdaws swirled for a while, then settled atop spindly trees, which somehow managed to support the hundreds upon hundreds of birds.

It is good to be home, he thought, and continued walking.

Just one more thing

She looked at the mess of furniture and boxes. Somehow, the process of moving house always included more of everything than she’d imagine. Then she looked at the motley group assembled to move all the things. They were tired, aching and more than a little amazed of just how much stuff there was. They were also laughing, reminding each other of old times, and occasionally asking her about particular items of note. Seeing them together, moving things along in heartily organized concert, made her smile and think that she, all things considered, had the bestest of friends.

Despite herself, she half hoped this moment would last.