The Flock's Wake

I drove away from her house for the last time, tearful and defeated. The sun hung low in an orange sky. In my mind I replayed and relived the last five months of mine - of our lives in my head. Something terrible began to rise into my throat that I refused to let out, but it stayed in my mind, festering.

In five minutes, I was parked in front of my house and I turned my engine off. Still sitting in the car, I saw my mother through the window, wearing headphones and using a vacuum. She moved to the rhythm of whatever song she was listening to as she worked her way around our living room. I cycled through the stations on the radio, trying to match a song to her movements until I found a likely match.

After having found success, I moved to open the car door and go inside, but I stopped. I turned my engine back on and the radio up and I drove away. I wiped the moisture out of my eyes as I went on, dangerously fast down my street. The houses, the trees, and everything blurred in my sight and slipped away. Ahead I saw a sparkle; the local duck pond. I slowed and turned into its parking lot.

I stopped the car and moved slowly and mechanically outside, stopping briefly after every motion and staring into space. I made my way unconsciously over to the nearest bench. It overlooked the pond, which reflected a dark orange as I sat down. Above me, a flock of geese floated down to the pond's surface, disturbing the surface of the pond and distorting the sun's reflection. The geese huddled together near the area of the shore closest to me as the water calmed again. Entranced, I watched them glide on the water.

I became aware of someone walking toward them, recognizing her after a while to be one of my classmates. She had bread crumbs in her hand and was tossing them onto the water. She smiled, and I watched her with her free hand draw her hair back behind her ear, revealing her face. Noticing me, she turned her head and locked eyes with me from a distance.

As she did so, the geese took flight, again distorting the reflection of the setting sun. They were on the move again.