She sat Indian style on the floor in the middle of her room. The rough carpet was slightly covered by a plush rug that she ran her fingers through over and over. She had a single earbud in, with an audiobook playing. Her eyes were closed, but her head was tilted toward the sky.
“The trees blew in the wind as the orange and red leaves gave up their grasp to the branches. It was as if the first snow that year was not white but a beautiful combination of golden hues falling from the trees” She listened to the book’s mesmerizing words, though the image in her head was still incomplete. She could only imagine what the words would mean to another reader.
She felt a slight breeze as her door began to open, she could hear the almost silent creek with her unoccupied ear, pulling her from her thoughts.
The girl listened as she heard what she knew was her mother’s knees hit the floor ever so softly, and her steady breath as she sat next to her young daughter. The Girl felt her mother’s hand land on her back, she could count every finger as it came into contact with her cotton t-shirt. Her eyes remained closed, but her head fell, lifting her ear in the direction of her mother. She heard the gentle voice explain simple instructions as her earbud was removed, and the device was pulled away from her hands.
No more stories about mountains, and adventures, no more kingdoms in the fall, no more handsome princes, and fair skinned princesses with hair that looked like silk. Only the slight touch of the air as she moved to stand, and the smell of her mother’s freshly washed hair. Only the feeling of her fingers on her mother’s long scratchy sleeve, and the shock of her feet stepping out onto the cold hardwood in the hall.
She took one step after the other, each presenting something new. As she walked in the direction of the door, she felt under each foot, a piece of dirt here, a leaf there, some cat hair, and the crack in the old wooden floorboards. She took another step to be introduced to the all familiar smell of baking bread in the kitchen. She then heard the sound of her brother’s guitar through his bedroom door. Her head turned to face her ear to his sound, she loved hearing his music. With a new found smile on her face, she continued on, step by step still grasping the top of her mother’s sleeve.
They reached the door, and she bent to touch the back of the bench, on it was engraved a sunset. She ran her fingers over the picture, in and over each groove on the wood. The shapes the carpenter made were just how an author tells a story, each turn and cut is a part of the narrative. The wood was smooth after years of being used, but it never lost its shape. She pulled her boots over her socks, feeling each bunch and wrinkle on her foot. She could feel the dirt crumble off the bottom of her shoe as she pushed it on. She stood but remained close to the bench reaching beside it for a long pole. She followed her mother’s guide out the door.
“Tap tap tap” the pole hit against the ground, showing her where the path started and ended. She walked in the silence of words, nothing but the tap. One arm on her mother’s sleeve, and the other holding the pole. Her eyes remained closed as she listened. She heard the birds songs, and the leaves hitting each other up above. She smelled the newly mowed grass mixed with the exhaust from the nearby roads. She could hear the children playing far off, and hear their mothers calling after them. Her mind wondered though. She wanted to know what it meant; the orange and red, the golden hues, the handsome and beautiful, the colors and appearances were all just imaginary to her. As imaginary as would be a creature that you only hear the name of. You know it is wonderful and different, and that it can bring great joy, and also great sorrow. Color. If she could have only one gift during her life, it would be for color. She didn’t want it long, she didn’t need the sight, she didn’t need anything more than to feel, and to hear, to smell and to know. But color. She just wanted to understand, not to see, or experience, but to understand. So she continued to walk, and to wish, that one day she may simply know of that mysterious creature.