The Way Home - Cover

The Way Home

Copyright© 2019 by barbar

Chapter 7

(snap) (thunk) (click-click) (snick) (traffic) (voices) (birds)

“I came early again.”

“Apparently so. How did your receptionist react?”

“She didn’t say anything. I wish she would speak. She has such a melodic voice.”

“Sound is important to you, is it not?”

“Oh, yes indeed. My daughter sings almost constantly. Even when she speaks, she does so with rhythm and melody in her voice. She uses her voice to mimic the sounds around us. It has made me so much more aware of how we are constantly surrounded by sound.”

I feel a tinge of sadness.

“It seems like such an age since I heard her voice.”

“How long has it been – since you heard her voice?”

“It seems so long ... but ... it must only have been since breakfast. Yes, breakfast.”

“Tell me about breakfast. What did you eat?”

It seems like a strange thing to ask. The funny thing is, I can’t remember. I can remember the sound of her voice – her trilling laugh, her extended yawn, her animated description of a horse seen in a movie – complete with sound effects. But I can’t remember what I ate. Breakfast seems like such a long time ago.

“Well, never mind. I’d like to do more work on my drawing.”

“Sure. I’d be glad to help. What would you like to know?”

“What can you see in that direction?”

He raises his arm and points with a single finger directly along the path.

I look and blink and look again.

“The path beneath our feet continues on,” I say in a strangely husky voice.

“And...”

“And then it spreads out into a circle that surrounds...”

“Surrounds what?”

“ ... surrounds a fountain.”

“Tell me about this fountain. What does it look like?”

“It’s ... um...”

“Take your time. I’m very interested. I want to get my drawing right.”

“Um...”

“Is there a problem?”

“I ... I can’t see the fountain. There’s a crowd of people in the way.”

“A crowd? What are they doing?”

“They’re looking at the fountain. There’s something...”

I stand, feeling confused.

“I think I’d better...”

I start walking along the path.

“ ... go.”

I push my way through the crowd.

I get to the fountain.

There are children swimming in the fountain.

I need to stop.

I stop.

The source of this story is Finestories

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close