Earlier today, I had spotted Finn's mom while she was on a run.
Every time I went over to Finn's house, she always had this pretty air around her. Ringlet-y brown hair that was always styled, nice cashmere tops with the scent of floral following her.
It was safe to say she left that behind today. Her hair was thrown up messily, and she wore plain sweatpants and an old college sweatshirt. When she got closer, I could see that her normal olive complexion looked more like an ashy white. Green, bloodshot eyes came into closer view.
What scared me the most was how fragile she looked. It seemed like the wind could have just picked her up and scattered her into pieces. When she saw me, she look confused, and then recognized who I was.
I winced when she tried to smile, as it came out more like a grimace.
Two summers ago, when she and Mr. Romans had gotten divorced, she ran into me during one of her runs, looking very much like she did today.
She had stood there, panting. Beads of sweat rolled down her face, mixing with the tears running down her cheeks. She looked up at me, seeing me for what felt like the first time.
Minutes had gone by until she broke the impending silence.
"It's easier to run, you know. Makes you think that you can escape from it all, even if it's just for a while."
And like that very day, she kept running, until I could only make her out as a speck near the horizon.
YOU ARE READING
If I Found Finn (#Wattys2015)
Historia CortaFiona Rothfield hates everything. - Or the one where she's trying to come to terms with losing her best friend and happiness isn't a feeling anymore. (a series of letters, dialogue, and mishappenings) short story #492 (3/14/15)
