FridayFiction - The Road - From the Vault 2012

 I wrote this in 2012, and I only vaguely remember the exact circumstances behind the writing but the images? Still seared in my head.

~~~2012~~~

Just something I've been thinking about for various reasons.

The narrow, empty rural road stretched and faded into the mountains of the far distance. I squared my shoulders, pulled my jacket closer to me and took the first step.

The wind was at my back and though I couldn't see it in the silvery sky, the sun was warm upon my face.

The landscape was barren and empty at first glance and revealed itself in nuances of greens, browns, and greys. Further on, light showers of rain slipped through the air at the point where the steel sky met the dark land.

I walked.

The road rose and fell, twisted and turned, and I walked. The skies were still much too thick to see the sun, but I felt its vague warmth from above.

I walked, and, after unknown time, the road led along the edge of a dark lake. The still waters reflected near-exact mirrors of the sparse-forested hills and stripped limestone mountains above.

I walked on and on, but did not grow weary. Night threatened to fall, but it did not come. The waters stirred a little from their glassy stillness, but never turned rough.

I walked, and though all was silence and solitude, I did not feel alone. Where once I would have needed constant music in my ears, I missed it not.

I walked, but my feet did not turn sore. My bright magenta sneakers did not rub and my muscles did not burn, but I felt the distance even as I had no sense of time.

I walked and, though I had no notion of a specific destination, I was not lost.

I walked, and I walked, until I turned a final rising bend and found myself staring at a house.

The house was like scores I'd seen before on roads like this. There was comfort in the familiarity of its thatched roof and whitewashed walls. Thin smoke curled up from the chimney and I breathed in the warm, earthy smell of a peat fire.

I approached the front door, a brilliant green thing surrounded by wild roses. I paused there and caught my reflection in the window.

I was more beautiful than I had ever seen, but exactly the same as I had always been. I opened the door.

Inside was snug and warm. it was no more interesting inside than out. As the door closed behind me, I knew what was waiting ahead.

Only everything I had ever honestly wanted and needed, for the two were not so terrifically unlike. Music floated on the air, the song I'd kept close to my heart.

By a crackling fire, there I found a familiar face, smiling in welcome.

'I've been waiting for you.'

'I've been waiting a long time to get here.'

The long walk was penance, I then understood. Waiting was - and ever had been - my punishment.

It is over and I am here.