Weaving through the crowd, I wonder if it’s my own agitated mien that I see reflected back to me in the faces I pass. I climb up the two levels that lead out, leaving behind the musty underground with its pungent stench of urine, pushing through the exit turnstyle, and out into the open air.
Sharp pellets of tiny frozen raindrops collide with my skin. Tilting my face upwards, I welcome the assault, exhaling a deep breath and feeling the weight of the days events lift off my shoulders. I pass landmarks that revive my lifeless senses, and tell me I’m home: the smells of the bakery and flower shop, the colors displayed in the fruit market window, the buzz of conversation escaping from inside a cafe filled with content couples.
I wave to a familiar face in a doorway, and exchange an envelope for my little dog, taking her from the youth who cares for her in my absence. I give her a gentle squeeze and peck, then set her down, and we turn the corner down the stone path to my door—and all was well with the world.
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The Daily Post, September 14, 2015, Daily Prompt: No Cliffhangers~ Write a post about the topic of your choice, in whatever style you want, but make sure to end it with “…and all was well with the world.”<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/no-cliffhangers/”>No Cliffhangers</a><a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/no-cliffhangers/”>No Cliffhangers</a>
As refreshing as that cool air that greeted you as you climbed up out of the subway. That’s how I always feel returning home. Lucky us. http://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/09/14/its-not-all-about-us/
Ah nothing like home!