A Patchwork Quilt of Hope (standard:travel stories, 197 words)
Author: KShaw	Added: Oct 09 2005	Views/Reads: 3633/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
An afternoon of driving my old MGA

The meandering road, disappearing over the hill, seems a more
interesting route and heading nowhere in particular, the evening light 
falling down golden, bleeding mixtures of greens and blues through the 
trees, I turn right, leaving the city in search of tranquillity, 
greenness, space, clean air, and a chance to be alone with my thoughts. 


Coming round the bend, I witness the face of a little darling standing
on the grass verge with a stick in her hand, yellow bonnet nestling her 
ocean-wheat locks; some of which fall around her shoulders. 

I raise my hand, smiling from my old MGA and the lick of happiness that
happens on her face reaches right through the day and touches me. I 
watch in my mirror, her hand raised, not in goodbye but hello, before 
the bend swallows her. 

Winters must be difficult out here, but for now, under a transparent
stretch of azure sky, the afternoon throws a patchwork quilt of hope 
over the hills. I have seeped into this valley with no sure direction 
but the one the road has commanded. I've seen no signposts, no roads 
joining, and have succumbed to the joyous feeling of being lost.


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