She loves the color purple and can’t wait for Halloween, because that means she’ll get to dress up as something that she will never be. The air will dance on by gifting hints of nostalgia, the kind you can’t quite explain but it makes you really miss your mama.
The changing leaves are imprinted towards the back of her brain, so as she takes the voyage home her heart sputters and almost goes insane. From the broken stone porch, or the porcelain decorations, to the narrow piano stairs and the small mint green kitchen.
The door creaks open, the little witch bell rings, she’s finally home and from the distance hears a ding. The sounds of pots and pans being used for her dad’s creation; an Irish feast awaits as she explodes with appreciation.
She goes outside as her hometown eyes scan the house and autumn street. Many memories emerge surrounding the season. When did the time pass and how can she get it back? Like a balloon that has escaped, the string is so close to reach. But as she jumps and tries to grab it, the string glides across her hand and leaves; the sky gracefully takes it away. She gazes as it disappears into dusk, an unattainable realm. She knows she will never see that balloon again.
Although this is sad, a certain serenity exists. An exciting feeling of the future, a future that one day she will look back at with these same great feelings of longing. Her hometown eyes will never go away, but someday they may look at someplace else the same exact way.