city boy (novella)

CHAPTER ONE: THE RAIN

Rain fell… it hit the cobblestones on the road making small puddles, puddles that all pooled together. It was cold and wet, and there was very little light. It was night… well maybe morning… I couldn’t tell. I wandered, on and on. These streets were silent except the rain and the unusual and uneventful but still noisy dog seeing me pass his house. The shops and taverns were closed, but I could still see the brightly painted signs some were starting to become rugged. These signs were unwelcoming and unwanted sights to my eye. I had been a little boy (as all men have), and when I was, I would run through the streets. These streets were the streets of Ganshvangle. I had grown up here… and hated it.

I kept walking, on and on, further and further. The rain was getting worse and there was a wind, stirring and picking up. The winding streets kept going; the ageing walks were beginning to become tricky to navigate. I would hate to be one of the elderly folk walking through these streets. Finally I got to my destination. This was the park. A place in the city for only greenery and playhouses. There was also a pavilion here. It was white and standing in the rain just as I remembered it from my dreams. Just as I remembered it from when I was little.

The pavilion stood there in the wet green, the moist ground under my feet had one of those unforgettable smells. This smell wafted up to my nose. I sank down on my knees and stared at it for who knew how long.

This was the moment I had wished, yarned, and worked so hard for. To come back to this city, to come back to this pavilion and see once more the green of the grass. To feel the rain on my head, shoulders, and back. To feel alive and free once more! This is what I had wanted. This is also what I had achieved. Here. In Ganshvangle, the only part of the world with trees and green such as this, such as in all the old books. I stood up and walked over, into the pavilion, into the white hexagonal shape. I sat down. There seemed to be a hole in the roof. I lay back and looked through the hole; all the way to the gray, thick smoky air. I remembered in a book I had read once there was a description if stars. Stars I thought. What would they be like in a world like ours? What would they be?

I closed my eyes at this point, I felt the life around me, around my body, and I felt the cool air and the soft half rotted out wood. Here I began to sleep.

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The light filtered in through the window. The white walls and the metal appliances reflecting the morning sun into my eyes. Why was it so bright? Oh right! Another day of school! I had forgotten… my room was white, and the furniture was metal. My drapes were made of a dark blue silk and my clock next to my bed matched the same blue. My quilt was a slightly different blue and my sheets were a light blue. The room was about 6 yards by 8 yards and spacious. This room had a tile floor, blue and white tiles in a checkered pattern. The lamp was blue like the tiles and the quilt. The lamps shade was blue too.

I shoved my feet into the blue fuzzy slippers waiting under my bed. I kicked them on and sauntered over to the door where I walked into the hall. This hall was long and wide. The floor was wood here. I shuffled down the hall to my bathroom where I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and started brushing my hair. My father was the governor of Ganshvangle. I was the most popular girl at school and the richest girl in the whole city! I could have anything I wanted! But for some reason I didn’t bother using people to get what I wanted, I merely worked for it.

The one thing I had never really liked about that is that… well I was left on my own… there was never anyone to talk to. There was never anyone to back me up, and if there were it was for my money or for popularity. They were not my real friends. This is why I hid my face behind my make up. I layered it on, it hid who I was, it hid the tear streaked cheeks that had no place in my life but some how made there way in anyway. Some people would say that I could find a perfect man. But I knew there was no such thing. Look around you! Look! We live in a huge city with homeless and rich. The shops and houses were all choking each other they all demanded more room and yet there was not the room they demanded. In this chaos men were hard to find. Let alone men that would listen to me, and love me for who I am. I had given up long ago. Now all I dreamed for was my long walks in the park. Alone.

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The rain had stopped. I was awakened by the chirping of a bird a small bird. The honeyed swallow to be exact. Its trill was loud and filled the park around me. I lay on the rotting wood floor awake and alert. My whole body felt refreshed and energetic. I was full of life and in almost a jubilant mood. I quickly rose up off the wooden floorboards, ready to start my day in the city.

First I would have to find a job. I was not very educated, but I had had many a job, as a shopkeepers assistant, as a handy man, one year I even just did odd jobs for shops and familys who could pay. Today I would be off and looking for another one of these miscellaneous jobs… I got up, stretched my limbs. I went to the puddle of freshly fallen rainwater and splashed my face, I looked down. Looking back at me was a man with a chin covered stubble, dark hair that was a bit too long, and brown eyes. The eyes were set close together but not in a way that made him look peevish or vile. In fact they made him look dignified and I bit mischievous. His hair was rather disheveled, but then again he had just gotten up. His skin was of an olive brown. He all and all was very handsome, but not the showy kind of handsome. Just, handsome.

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