Stopping Time

By NationChild

Created on July 12th, 2006

A/N: In less than a month, I will be moving from my country of residence to a small town in a rural area, so this is, most likely, my final piece before I move. A “finish”, if you will. I will still write when inspiration hits me, but I may not post many stories until, at the earliest, the beginning of September. And my muse is hiding from me, as of late, so we’ll just see what the future holds.

NC

“I just put the TV in the car,” my father announced.

“Good,” my mother replied, “Emily took most of the clothes and the couch. Her husband came and helped her move the things.”

Emily was an amah of my parents’ friends, who had kindly offered to help us clean the house and move things around.

Hearing my parents’ conversation, I groaned inwardly. I was so sick of this move already and the packers hadn’t even come yet!

I went to my bedroom window and looked out. A cool breeze swept through, blowing my hair and calming my senses. Just beyond the mountains, after the village, the blue of the sky and the yellow of the sun displayed the sunset. There were high, puffy clouds among them, glowing in the rays of the sun. I sighed, wishing that this view before me could last forever. But the mixture of colors were already beginning to fade, the clouds were losing their subtle gleam.

I looked around my room. As I had already cleaned, the room revealed what was usually hidden. The almost bare blue and purple walls, my dresser… Things lay on the floor in piles: to give away, trash, to pack, airfreight, suitcase… Many things were packed away already, some never to be seen until late autumn.

I sighed again and walked downstairs.

My feet led me to the piano, and I played a piece. My fingers moved across the keys. Hmm… maybe if I played slow and soft enough, I would never have to end it. But that’d be useless. I want things to happen, don’t I? I wouldn’t want to stay in the same boring world, would I? But the music would have to finish sometime, just as, after the sunrise, there would surely be a sunset, won’t there? Things have to change. They are going to change. I played the piece, thinking about that. And before I knew it, I was playing some high chords. This could only mean one thing: the end. I watched my fingers quickly making their way lower down on the keyboard and finally pounding the keys in a series of notes, finishing with a single key, signifying the end.

The sunset was at its end, leaving behind some miscellaneous trails of hot pink and sky blue.