|| cw14 || A Million Lights, A Million Lives

For this assignment, we created a word bank of restaurant words, enthusiastically picking out the most colorful ones we could come up with–and then we were told we had to use them all in a writing not about a restaurant.  Below is the result, in which two young adults take a walk in a city, trying to wrap their minds around the changes associated with growing up.  What does the future hold?  Let’s find out with them, shall we?

Author’s note: I was going to make this cheesy and poke fun at the assignment, but then decided it would be best to see how artistic I could make something.  Heh.

WORD BANK

Morgan – light
Genevieve – clatter
Megan N – specials
Maria – cheesecake
Natalie – spill
Leanne – bacon
Mark – gratuity
Destiny – bitter
Eleni – Delectable
Taylor – tip
Kevin – matre’d
Grace S – mmmmmm
Emilee – tasty
Grace C – atmosphere
Megan Y – cheap
Josiah – menu

The city came alive.  As the sunlight began to die, the other lights began to live.  Millions of reds, greens, whites, and yellows spread across the city, lighting roads, signs, and walls.  People emerged from offices and apartments, streaming onto the sidewalks to wander aimlessly for a few treasured minutes.

Danielle did just that, strolling down the sidewalk, shimmering lights along the street reflecting off of the damp pavement.  A silvery sheen pervaded the atmosphere, glimmering like the bacon grease on the unwashed griddle in her small kitchen.  Taking in the scents of winter and the soaring, marbled pattern of reds and blues in the sky, Danielle continued on her walk.  There was something serene, even in this big city, about walking alone on a sidewalk with no specific place to go, relaxing after a long work day.  The only thing that could make it better was the company of a few good friends.  Ha.  She thought “the only thing” as if everything else were fine.  Honestly, the walk was about the only thing she had left to look forward to anymore.  Hopefully someone would spill out from another doorway at some point, as someone often did on these Friday nights.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” said a deep baritone from behind her left shoulder.  She didn’t turn, but fell back a bit, slipping alongside her childhood friend.  Something just felt more right, like the feeling that comes after leaving a large gratuity with a maitre’d for the bellboy with haunted eyes–the times when the light in the heart burns a little clearer.

“Yes, lovely,” she said slowly, not looking to her left.  If she did, he might simply vanish like the rest of her childhood hopes, and the one bright spot of week after monotonous week might fade with him.

“Things haven’t been the same, after this job, have they Dani?” the man beside her locked into her stride, keeping pace exactly with her, supporting her with his presence more than with words.

“No,” she said shortly, a bitter taste in her mouth at her accidentally short-tempered tone.  “No,” she tried again, softer this time.  “I’m walking a thin line, waiting for something to tip the balance between satisfying the boss and making me go insane.  Absolutely insane.  Like that twisting sunset ahead, but not beautiful.”

“Mmmm,” hummed her companion, staying close by but giving her enough space to breathe.  In a world that crowded her to desperation and strangled the laughter from her lips, Kieran alone knew how to give her the space she needed to actually feel close.  He sighed audibly, and spoke again: “I wish I could help.  There’s so much you could do out there, if someone would just give you a chance.”  He glanced at their shoes on the sidewalk–cheap, nylon things which spoke of wear and limited funds and student debt–walking step by step, avoiding all the cracks in the sidewalks just as they had for years.

They passed through more of the city together in companionable silence, eyeing the Christmas lights.  So many of them, in rows and strings, fading into the distance…where did they lead?  Bulb after bulb, they marched on in silence, to a destination far away.  They passed signs, too.  Chalk art, marker art, fancy photos, all proclaiming the delectable, tasty cheesecake specials or some such thing inside.

Kieran watched his friend in worried silence, noting her glassy stare and weary walk.  No, she was not all right.  But then again, why would he push?  Better to wait for her to talk.  Be there.  That was all he could do.  He reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the side, keeping her from colliding with a light post.

The clatter of a car door slamming snapped Danielle out of her trancelike state.  She sighed.  “Do you think it will get better?”

“Yes,” Kieran replied without hesitation.

That was what she loved about him—his undaunted optimism.  Somehow, it’d been a part of their friendship through all the trials of middle school and high school.

“Someday, we’ll find better jobs, better educations, better everything.  This—now—it’s…” he paused, searching for the right words.  That was another thing she loved about him.  He never said things he didn’t think through, didn’t mean.  “It’s all a stepping stone.  One step towards the end that He’s planned for us.”

The bustling downtown area was now behind them, and they passed through residencies.  More Christmas lights decorated the scenery now—not in orderly rows, but in haphazard arrangements.  A tree decorated heavily at the bottom and none at the top: an enthusiastic child’s handiwork.  A bush with simple white lights, a nod to the standard decorations of an old man’s childhood.  A door with “Come home safe, Daddy” taped over the window.  The hopes and dreams of a million people, mixing in the air like words on a menu.

“Look at all the feelings,” Danielle whispered.  “Everyone shows their feelings here, somehow, through the lights.  It’s beautiful.”

Kieran smiled, understanding her cryptic comment perfectly.  “You and I are just another light in the sea of feelings,” he responded.  He paused, noting the moon in the sky where the sunset had been earlier.  “I think we’d best be getting home—the sun set already.”

Danielle nodded, wordlessly, saddened at the quick passing of the time but joyous at another uplifting walk with her friend.  “Goodnight, Kieran.”

“Goodnight, Danielle.”

They parted ways at the next intersection, moving in different directions, lost in the sea of a million lives in the city of a million lights, once again.