I Used To Live Here Once

He stood there. Silently, as if he was paralyzed. Not thinking, just observing what was around him. The street lamps threw light onto his face illuminating him. For the first time, it had hit him like a tonne of bricks; nothing was as it used to be. Just behind him was his home. Probably the only thing that stayed the same. Staring as the top of the hill where the road disappeared into the horizon. He had never been to the other end of the road; he just imagined what it looked like.

It was the first time he had noticed the dying grass growing on the cracked and broken pavement. The tarmac looked new though. So different to what it had been like, but it was the same road as before. Still in wonder, he moved to the end of the drive and shifted his attention to the top of the hill.

  The sun was not up yet so he could see the horizon. It looked like a ripe orange peeking out from the sky. The road reflected the colour and threw the image back at the sky. It was so nice until he snapped back to reality and saw all the dead trees and broken bottles on the floor. Cars drove past roaring and throwing rubbish out of the windows as if the drivers owned the road

There was so much pollution in the air, it is physically impossible to fully open his eyes. The smell of car fumes began to enhance, as it got closer to 8 am. Rush hour. Not to mention the giant Lorries hauling down the road temporarily deafening anything that was within a 20-foot radius with its monster of an engine. He was having flash backs about the times the road was quiet, like a desert or in the middle of the countryside.

He used to live here once. He felt it was a home. Now it was nothing more than a place to stay. The neighbours were outside to collect the dustbins; he had seen many different people move in and out from that house. It was as if the place repelled people, as if it were a magnet repelling another. A quick nod from the neighbour left him inclined to acknowledge him in the same way.

Not much had stayed pleasant over the years except the weak hope of people slowly fading into a dark abyss. He moves along this road. Stepping over weed growing out from under the road. Even that has died. Nothing seemed familiar. As he walked up the hill. To where he had never been. May be it would be as he imagined, or may be it would be like and ordinary place. He was going to find out

 Walking to the top a fresh breeze swept past him. He reached the top. Where he had never been.

He stood there. Silently, as if he was paralyzed. Not thinking, just observing what was around him.

The End

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