Whispers of Truth | Matt Sturniolo

𝒳𝒳𝐼

𝘼𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙚

As I approached the entrance of the long, winding driveway that led to my house, my heart quickened with anticipation. The once sunny skies had dimmed, and the atmosphere was becoming slightly gloomy, as if foretelling an impending rain.

Just as I began to pull into the driveway, my eyes fixated on a figure occupying the shaded area where my car was supposed to be parked. At first, it was a mere silhouette, a vague presence that sparked curiosity. As I drew nearer, the details crystallized, and my pulse quickened.

It was Kami. Perched in the very spot I had expected my car to rest. Her form was cast in a dance of subtle light and shadow, as if nature itself was setting the stage for an approaching storm. I caught a glimpse of her as I approached, her posture and expression laden with mystery.

My hands gripped the steering wheel. As I navigated the car closer, I made the swift decision to sound the horn, a sudden and urgent blare that shattered the now quiet and eerie ambiance.

Kami, startled and caught off guard, reacted immediately. Her movements were a blur, a hurried retreat from the path of my approaching car.

The discordant sound of the horn echoed through the dimmed and overcast surroundings, and Kami's hurried step out of harm's way was a testament to the abruptness of the moment.

In an instant, the once tranquil driveway had transformed into a scene of unexpected tension, a clash of elements that foreshadowed the impending rain.

Seated in the driver's seat of my car, I took a brief moment to collect my thoughts. The interior exuded an air of understated luxury, with leather-clad surfaces and a polished dashboard. My fingers traced the contours of the steering wheel, its leather-wrapped embrace cool and reassuring.

I reached into the cup holder, the light blue keychain wallet waiting for me. It was a petite yet elegant accessory, with the unmistakable Prada logo subtly engraved on its surface. Gently, I reached for it, the texture of the fine leather wallet a testament to its craftsmanship.

Hanging from the keychain, like silent companions, were two Arctic Monkeys charms.

The first charm was an homage to the 'Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino' Its charm was designed to resemble a miniature hotel key, the second charm, in stark contrast, appeared to be a humble yet meticulously crafted branded car keychain. From their album 'The Car'

"What're you doing here, Kams?" I questioned, my steps measured as I approached the entrance of my house. My voice carried a mix of curiosity and surprise.

As my hand reached out, I turned the key in the lock, the familiar click signaling my entry into the sanctuary of my home. Just before the impending storm could unleash its fury, I pushed open the door, revealing the cozy interior.

Kami followed behind, her presence both comforting and unsettling. I could feel her energy, her emotions, emanating as she crossed the threshold.

"You never answered my texts, or calls," Kami's voice was tinged with a hint of vulnerability, a soft admission of her longing. "I miss you, and I'm sorry." Her words hung in the air, a plea for understanding and forgiveness.

"Kami, do you realize how truly horrible it was for you to say that?" I implored

Outside, the thundering storm intensified, the booming crescendo of nature's fury mirroring the tempestuous emotions inside.