And I Did

"Wake Up."

It was a small town, maybe two or three thousand people. Every year they held a festival, in the square. A band played and we danced until dark when the lanterns were lit and one by one our names were read and our accomplishments applauded. Even to the lowest some consideration was payed and it was considered an offence to the town to ridicule any small achievement.

"Wake Up."

I didn't recognize her at first, while we chatted and exchanged pleasantries. She was very engaging and smiled freely; her attentiveness I found very attractive. Slowly her mannerisms and her familiar way encouraged recognition and I knew it was her. I looked into her face and found it radiant, unchanged and peacefully kind. She brushed away my apologies and I wondered at the changes in her and in myself.

"Wake Up."

I was between the walls, sliding sideways, dusty and a little claustrophobic but not afraid. I could see into the rooms and knew it was my grandfather's house. I wondered if the money box was still under the stairs leading to the attic. I wanted to go up, still anxious after all these years to go anywhere near the basement.

"Wake Up."

The cold plains stretched for miles in every direction. I ached from the ride, not entirely comfortable on the horse. I have never felt so free; the sky wide open and the view never-ending. I could smell the grass and the leather and when we stopped, I stretched and stamped the blood back into my legs, and felt alive and filled with anticipation.

"Wake Up." And I did.