Lost In Lucidity

Quiet of Abandon

It starts outside in the lot just past Val's house. The one with the bench in the middle of the small grassy garden. I'm sitting there in the sun-swept afternoon, staring out at the neighborhood. It's calm but not quiet, with birds chirping playfully on the power lines and children giggling in the park down the road. With a deep breath in, I stand and start back down the street toward my house. As I walk, I can feel a cool early autumn breeze against the skin of my arms that offsets the warmth from the sun behind me. I don't mind, though. It's nice to not be wearing my jacket outside for a change. I pass Val's house and step down the path to my front porch. Swinging the door open, I see a woman sitting there on the couch, and with a smile, I greet her.

"Hey, mom," I say, Stepping around the side of the sofa to join her. I want to hug her or kiss her on the head as I pass, but I guess it's not in the plans for tonight as I simply sit down next to her.

"Oh, hey, honey." She says warmly. She doesn't move to look at me, which isn't in character. Just keeps her head toward the television. An incoherent jumble of shapes clutters the screen.

"T.V, huh?" I say. I can feel the boundaries slip a bit at the acknowledgment, and I take the opportunity to push further, "That's not a usual hobby of yours."

She laughs and shakes her head, "What are you talking about? I have all sorts of things I love to watch."

She doesn't. That's an incorrect detail. I choose not to dwell on it, though. It's just nice to see her.

"Where's Leigh at?" I ask.

"She's over at a friends. Should be home for dinner, though." My mother answers, smiling at the screen.

"What're you making?"

"Not sure yet. Maybe chicken. Some mashed potatoes?"

"Mmm. Sounds good."

She looks at the clock where a blurred set of numbers are unreadable. "Yeah, I should probably get started soon, actually. You wanna help?"

"Sure."

We enter the kitchen together, and she starts prepping the chicken while I peel the potatoes. No matter how much I peel, the skin seems to keep coming back. It's alright, though. It gives us more time to talk.

"How was your day, mom?"

"Oh, it was good. I got a lot done. How about you? What were you off doing?"

"Just in the garden down the road. I wanted to get some fresh air."

"Ah, I see. Were you with Valentine?"

"No, I just went alone. She and I haven't hung out in a while." I tell her, an old thought creeping into my lines.

"Oh, well, why don't you reach out to her? I'm sure she misses you."

"That's okay. She's probably busy with other stuff."

My mom sets her knife down and gives me a disappointed glare, "Wes... You're doing it again..."

"Doing what?"

"That thing you do when you're upset. Reclusing."

"I'm not reclusing," I tell her, "I hang out with Leigh all the time."

She smirks at me, "Hanging out with your sister doesn't count when you live together, honey." I chuckle softly at her remark, and she steps close, placing a hand on my arm, "What's wrong, Wes?"

I look nervously to the floor, then shift on my feet, "I... I don't know, mom. I feel like there are too many things, but I can't tell exactly what they are."