Going Home

I guess I fell asleep, I thought as I opened my eyes and looked around. The church was empty by then. The only sign of people being there recently at all were the flowers and wreaths decorating the altar and the ground in front of it. I can’t believe they just left me here… Oh well. Time to go.

I stood up, and after one more glance at the altar I turned around and left the building. It was late afternoon, I noted as I glanced up at the sun. A gentle rain was falling, but it didn’t bother me. I looked around. I have to go home now, but I had to realize that I forgot which way it is. At first I tried to look for someone to ask for directions, but I couldn’t see anyone nearby, which was odd since the church was positioned in the middle of town. Where is everybody?

I walked over to the other side of the road, and was finally able to see another person walking down a nearby street. I waved and moved closer.

“Excuse me! Hey!” I yelled, and the person stopped. Walking up, I found out that it was a woman, seemingly in her forties, maybe fifties. She was wearing a crimson dress that stood out in the grayness of the town.

“Yes? Can I help you? Oh!” she turned to me. “You’re Philip, right? I was at the funeral. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh. Thank you.” I said. “Can you help me out? I forgot the way home.”

“Of course, of course.” she smiled. “You just take the road behind the church and turn right at the first crossroad; you should find it from there. If you still don’t remember, you can always ask Balthazar, the old man. He’s very helpful.”

I nodded. “Thank you very much. I hope I’ll find the way.”

“Of course. It’s not complicated.”

We waved goodbye to eachother, and soon I was on my way. The road behind the church led by a forested area, but I soon left that behind as I turned right, as told. There were few buildings in this area, and also a graveyard. A man was working in there, digging the ground to make way for a new grave. This must be Balthazar, I thought and I walked up to him.

“Excuse me…” I said. He looked up, taking a break from digging. He was bald and wrinkled, his clothes hanging on his thin body. He looked sick. “Are you Balthazar? I’m trying to find my way home.”

“I am.” he said, spitting on the ground from all the work he’s probably been doing here. “You new around here? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

“Yes. I’m new.” I said. “Can you direct me home?”

“Sure.” he said, raising his bony arm to point me in the right way. “Just follow this road and you’ll find a little chapel. Keep going and it’ll be right there.”

“Thank you. Have a good day.” I said, nodding goodbye then following the directions. I walked past the chapel and kept walking among the graves until I saw a familiar sight that made me smile. I found it!

I stopped next to one of the gravestones. Despite looking like all the other ones, it still stood out for me, and I recognized it right away. There was a name engraved on it that I knew all too well: Philip Carlson.

Finally, I am home.