Restless
By Abby SarahApril 20, 2015 - 23:48

I tried to stay at my site. It was slightly less than warm. Half of the flowers behind the arbor were blooming purple, half still little green shots. I sat huddled on the bench—the trees, the grass, the road, all felt worn. Maybe it was the influence of class, of the questions we’d begun to ponder—questions we had been pondering. Should I stay and know that shortly, I would lose focus and turn within? Or should I give into the urge to move, to wander?
I forced myself to stay a few moments more. I found an earthworm, heard a woodpecker, waved at friends. And then I stood, bounded down the stone steps, across the brown green yellow grass, and out into the world.