Hi,
This is a story I wrote when I was going through a major move and leaving home for the first time and moving 700 miles away. Tell me what you think, I guess. I am not sure exactly how people will view it but I tried to capture all the emotions I was feeling even though I wrote it 3 years after I moved.
Here it is...
Warmth
As he turns his head to the west, the cold November wind dries his eyes out. He looks east and sees nothing but the streetlight, currently red, stopping him from escaping the past. The darkness of night is swallowing up the sky and he knows that it is now or never. He grabs his bag from the damp cement and tosses it into the trunk of his old, beat up Chevy Caprice. He gets in the rusted orange and black car and says goodbye to the past. The only thing waiting for him is the open road and freedom.
The days went so quickly; they almost never happened. He had been waiting for this escape for more than six months now. When she left his world crumbled. He had been in trouble with the police and his family, something he did as a call for attention. He was struggling with the loss of the one person in his life that could hold him up during the low points. Now, this was his lowest point and she was seven hundred miles away. He had to get back to her.
As he turns out of his neighborhood a tear falls slowly down his flush cheek. He is leaving it behind, once and for all. The road is empty, except for the officer hoping to catch one of the local drunks leaving the bar. He drives past memories that shaped his childhood and early adulthood. Soon, he will be racing seventy miles an hour away from everything he has ever stood for.
As he turns the radio up in the Caprice, he takes one last depth breath and looks in the rearview mirror at the city he once called home. As his eyes focus back on the road the sunlight begins to pierce the blackness, and suddenly he feels warm again.



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