"And if you have a minute, why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know?"
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Maya Beaulieu, born and raised in Montreal, has heard the stories about Lance Stroll, the boy who grew up down the street of where she lived. All the reason to stay...
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August 15th, Montreal, Canada
Ever since the last three days, creativity has been flowing. It seems like the words are easy to find, and as if my fingers already know what my mind is creating before it really hits me.
Writing has never been this easy.
"Still writing?"
My dad voice startles me, and I turn around, flashing him a tired smile, "I can't help that the creativity hits me at 2 AM."
"Put the computer down and go sleep for at least an hour. You look tired."
I nod, and look back at my computerscreen. The letters are dancing and I can't seem to read the words properly anymore.
"I guess I am," I admit. "What time is it?"
"It is 8 in the morning. I am off to the station for a 24 hours shift."
"Alright. Buena suerte, papá." (Good luck, dad.)
The bed looks awfully good, and without much of a second thought, I let myself fall on the soft fabrics. My eyelids feel heavy, and I give in on the sleep pulling me its way.
You know you want to kiss me.
My eyes immediately open, my heartbeat quickens, and I look around me, but I am alone.
Wide awake.
02:00 PM.
｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡
I pack my notebook and leave for the treehouse early. It will take an hour of two before the sunset starts.
It is the one good thing my mother left me, our shared love for the setting sun.
"It's so dark when the sun is gone, mama." A six year old me said, my mother and I laid in the grass next to each other.
"Yes, darling, it will always be dark when the sun is down. But remember, no matter how dark the night, the sun will always rise again, so don't be afraid to be in the dark."
And the wishes. The wishes we made for dad, so he would return home safely.
For afar, I can see two feet dangling outside the plateau of the treehouse, and for a second I halt in my movements.
You know you want to kiss me.
His words haunt my brain, they still linger in my ears and every time I close my eyes for just a few seconds, they hit me. Hard.
