The stag hunt with the scarlet heart

Chapter 23 "Her gazes lit a match against my soul"

CALLUM

Have you ever felt that people sometimes move at a different pace than you? I feel that way, although sometimes I feel that people move very slowly while I'm running around trying to escape the big buildings, the crowded streets, and the hustle and bustle. Not to be stuffy, I love big cities, I can camouflage myself very well in them, and when I don't want to be found one of the best places to be but so I can in the forests, climbing up against the wind in your face and not on a wall of colored rocks, and the harness tightening your balls, is much more free and liberating.

After years of moving from place to place, making friends, leaving friends, just living the moment with my camera and no one else, I assumed it would be hard to stay in Chicago, that I would feel trapped, and in a certain way I do, sometimes I feel restless, but it feels good to belong, I can't say this feels like home, I thought for years that this wanderlust, this desire to travel, to know more, to discover, would pass, and I could settle down, but it never felt right, I'm not going to lie to myself and say that I feel this way with the little firecracker named after a certain flower, but we could have this moment. A fun moment that felt emotionally safe because we both knew there would be no more, there are no expectations.

Strangely, I find myself thinking about that elusive brunette so many times a day.

Saffron

Her name haunts me; everywhere I go, this girl is there. My work is connected to her, in my house, her name is written on the walls, and my mind is filled with images of her, fantasies of her body under my body, on top of me, her moans coming out of her lips like little sighs when I kiss her neck and make a part of her body mine, I can't get out of my head when she shouts my name out her lips. Thinking about it right now is not the most appropriate thing to do, but my mother doesn't give me any other option, her mouth is full of compliments for the woman.

I sigh and turn my attention back to my mother, who hasn't stopped talking. She's looking out at the lake in front of us; I've always loved this house, the green space and white sand with the dark blue water in the background.

"Do you feel trapped?" She asks, avoiding my gaze. "I know this must be difficult, but I appreciate you being here, son."

"I don't have huge cliffs to throw myself off in Chicago, but I took the moment when I had the opportunity. I wanted to make a memory. I've experienced so much that I have memories and moments that still make me smile. And as much as I miss some of those experiences and the people I met along the way, there are no regrets." I answer with conviction, trying to ease all the thoughts that probably must be drowning her. "I have no plans to stop traveling, you will get better, and we'll go together."

"I'm not... so sure." Her voice breaks and she touches the scarf I gave her to cover her bald head. "I don't want to do this anymore..."

"Hey, you can't give up." I beg, kneeling down in front of her small, bony body, "It's okay to feel bad and want to throw in the towel, but...think of Dad, think of Alex...you have to think of me... I need you."

She jumps into my arms, crying and nodding as I maneuver so as not to hurt her, my hands feel too big and her bones too small and fragile, her body is barely one hundred pounds and her last round of chemo took the little hair she had left on her head, she is still beautiful, she still has the strength, she's still my mom, but sometimes all she can feel is the pain, it isn't fair that one of the best people in the world has to go through this, but there aren't many things that are fair in this world.

"I'm tired." She whispers.

I nod, passing one arm over her knees and the other over her back, lifting her up without much effort, a feather between my hands. I can joke about it, I can look at her and smile, but every day I wonder if this will be the day she stops being around.