Coming Home
As my friend Pip and I wander through the pedestrian dominated back-roads of Chester, freezing under our winter coats, we decide to pop into a pub and order drinks to escape the cold December air. After some deliberation, we eventually find a restaurant where we can soak up the grease of authentic English meals. Our tummies filled with bangers and mash, fish and chips, and mushy peas, we venture out to the street again. As we walk along the Roman walls with the sun setting in the distance, I stop for a moment and glance at the people below us, busy completing their holiday shopping, too wrapped up with material concerns to take note of their surroundings. Mothers hurriedly drag their children past the Christmas displays, no doubt uneasy about the late hour and the need to cook dinner. They were moving so fast. Everyone was moving was fast.
I stare at their carelessness.
A minute passes; my eyes continue to scan the crowd. And then, frantically, defensively, as if to justify my own use of time, I begin to recall memories of my time in England over the last five months...Ballroom dancing to MIKA, drifting off in the backseat of a standard shift, trash talking as playing cards fly in the pursuit of victory, tossing Euros over our right shoulder to ensure our return to Rome, Guy Fawkes sparklers, candy apples, Mavis hot tea, HobNobs, muddy shoes in an English field once inhabited by Gypsies, hiking through the Lake District, late night talks in a grungy kitchen, sketching in an Amsterdam café, seeing Wicked in London, getting ready to go out, stumbling back, learning the art of pool, Thanksgiving multi-colored, cardboard turkey feathers, the tension of Cranium, standing in awe of the endless amount of artwork in the Louvre, terrified and lost in the suburbs of Paris, reevaluating why I believe what I believe, the sound of the choir in a Dublin cathedral, the way I felt when I was with my friends.
I close my eyes, forget the people in front of me, and let the memories wash over me like a flood. We walk on.










