There was a
light whistle flowing loosely, coolly in the heat. The field had a fresh new
feeling – flooded with spring; the smell of the old grass passing on and
returning to their sun-filled lives. So many tiny sounds flooded the vast sky.
Each distinct and, though meaningless, with the energy of youth resembled
music. It was a wonderful place to exist.
A cloak of hair came to my waist
and my outstretched hands were delicate and brown like chocolate icing. The
jumper I wore was as soft and blue as Sonic the Hedgehog would be and it had on
it a colourful logo. Nobody around me seemed to be wearing the jumper; there was
a pile of them down the field by a tree sheltered and others had used as goalposts.
There was only one person that had kept theirs on, and the moment I saw him,
supported by the old, mossy fence I felt sure that he was who had brought me here
– the only one who was looking at me.
“Hey!” I shouted, but he just
looked away – he didn’t flinch; it was as though I was something very dull. Was
he not the one? Did he just happen to look this way?
As I got closer, I saw that what
had seemed like neat hair from the distance was little more than trampled down
grass sagging, tracing out jagged edges on his smooth face.
“Hey? You can see me, right?” He
didn’t reply to me – not so much as a glance. If it wasn’t him, then who?
Suddenly, there was a ringing in the distance coming from the building with
charcoal rooves. It seemed to emit a sort of gloom and songs grew slowly
fainter on approaching it. All its blinds were shut in envy of the outside,
whilst its windows slyly stole the precious breeze.
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