[Two things: First, you need to read this for the following to make sense. Second, apparently, this looks better if you use IE over Firefox.]
There it went. The tiny slip of paper that held my destiny. I watched as the wind swept it away. The symbols meant nothing to me. A name. A location. A time perhaps? I didn’t know. And now I would never know. I watched with tears in my eyes as we sped away from the floating paper. I watched as that tiny white slip danced in the arms of the wind, teasing me with each dip and swirl. And, then, it was gone. I sighed.
I guess you’re goin’ with me now.
I barely knew who he was. Only a kind stranger who took pity on me, the girl with the slip of paper and no clue. And I, the foolish girl, followed him. He could kill me, I thought. Right here. And who would look for me? Who would know I ran off with him? Who would know to ask for a girl seen riding a—what did he call it—motor bike? But something felt right with him. There was something genuine in his smile. There was an honesty in his eyes. I trusted him. I trusted him and I didn’t even know him.
Everything sped past us so quickly. This entire world was far too quick for me. Nothing stayed here. Everything seemed to be a blur of color and light. With sound. Oh, there were such sounds! Horns and motors, bells and whistles, and so many other things I didn’t even know the names for. I was used to the slow, tranquility of things. Where one could stare at an image until it was engrained in your mind for eternity. Where a scent stayed with you long after you had gone from the location. Here, I could barely see what we were passing, much less savor its image.
We slowed to stop. Gas, he had said. We needed gas. I wanted to ask him how air would be useful in this situation, but decided against it. I knew nothing about these contraptions. Once we stopped, he dismounted and turned to me. I stood there, frozen.
He was staring. I felt my cheeks heat up suddenly and darted my eyes to the ground. It was smooth and grey with many spots about it. Some were large spots. Some small. Whatever liquid they were comprised of was thicker than water. And it smelled very badly. He was talking again. Something about a drink. My throat was quite dry, now that he mentioned it. I nodded.
He handed me colored slips of paper with faces on it. I held on tight to these, should the wind be looking for another partner.
It was so bright inside the building. I winced, looking around for some sign of familiarity. Nothing. I was instantly reminded of a wizard’s lair. There were brightly colored bottles and vials filled with liquids lining shelves that seemed to stretch on for miles. Their labels may as well have been blank, for I couldn’t read them. There were hardly any pictures on these labels either. This saddened me. I would have known to stray away from skulls, coffins, or black roses. But there were none. Only letters. Letters and words that meant nothing to me.
A voice sounded behind me. I jumped. I whirled around to face a man much older than the one I was traveling with. Perhaps old enough to be his father. His smile, however, was not genuine. I saw no honesty in his eyes. When he stared at me, I felt a cold sensation. So I dropped my eyes to the ground to avoid contact.
He reached over my shoulder, pointing out a particular beverage. Get him this, he said. And then he was gone. I thought about this for a moment. Could I trust him? Did he direct me to poison? Why would he wish to kill the man I rode in with? After shaking such thoughts from my head, I decided to get the drinks. I had spent too long in this potions’ closet and was ready to leave.
I had seen one before me hand similar colored slips of paper with faces on it to the boy behind the counter. I followed in the same suit. The attendant was calling to me as I walked out with the drinks. Something about change. I didn’t want to change drinks. I wouldn’t know what to change to.
I wish I had changed. The drink stung my chest and burned my throat. At first it was cold and soothing to my mouth, but then it turned on me. I choked while trying to swallow. He watched me as I struggled with this. I simply nodded to his question, not wanting to insult the drink.
We were on the road again. Pictures fading as quickly as they came. Blurs of lights, colors, and sound. I closed my eyes, trying not to focus on the twists and turns we took at such an alarming rate. But I could still feel my stomach churning. Thinking it would help, I tightened my grip on him. This seemed to prompt him.
We exchanged names in a casual banter. My heart skipped a beat when he repeated mine. It sounds so strange with his accent. It barely resembled my name at all. Then, it was his turn. August, he’d said. The rest seemed to fade away with the passing trees and street lamps. August. I savored the taste of his name on my lips. August.
August, who would show me this strange place. August, who would explain the strange sounds. August who would take care of me.
I liked the sound of that.
So, I rested my head against his back and simply said, “Yes. I’d like that.”
.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.
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