Soul

Soul
Words: 397


I’d been there for longer than I can remember. The open fields and blossoming flowers were second nature to me, no pun intended. The farmhouse itself was placed quite marvelously atop a flattened hill smothered in wild flowers. In the mornings, the sweet aroma from the flowers would drift in through the open window and engulf the kitchen in a breathtaking perfume. Every morning and night a wonderful view of the sunrise and sunset painted itself into the vast canvas of the sky.

The house itself was a wonderland of white-stained wood, shelves of nameless books, and trinkets scattered across every available surface. They all sat in distinctly organized arrangements and glimmered in the sunlight whenever they could manage.

The windows were abundant; every turn revealed a new picture of the beautiful landscape. I never closed them either… there wasn’t a worry of rain.

When I was there, I passed my days either reading or examining the vast trinket collection. Every day passed slowly, allowing me to soak in everything around me.

There was a chair, red and peculiarly inviting. It sat directly in front of a window facing the sunrise. In the morning, its soft leather warmed against the natural light, hot to the touch. The colors streamed in through the window like butterflies, swallowing up the area with natural purity. That is where I read.

There were times when, out of curiosity and curiosity only, I ventured into the land outside the quiet farmhouse. Never did I stray more than eyesight. I’d observe the flowers or lie on the lush green hillside and stare at the clouds. This I did not do too often, for there was something missing when I wasn’t in the house. A feeling, an emotion, something was definitely gone. What it was I never found out, for I felt no need. Life was simple.

All of that had become purely a memory when I awoke in the hospital bed. Over the many years that passed, it faded bit by bit. I strayed back to it when I could, for I did not want to forget. When I wasn’t praying, I thought back to the crash, the darkness, and then the house. I cherished the opportunity I had there and kept praying for that same peace. On October 29th, after a night of fading in and out, my wish was granted.