The eyes of eons. [Slow Editing]

Chapter 1

   I was bored. The end of day brought on some melancholy and I was sitting at my old shabby desk that used to belong to my grandfather. The window was open and cool December evening breeze was blowing into my face.  I closed my eyes and began listening to the noises from outside. To avoid the constant draft, I shifted my position bowing slightly above the surface of the desk. The cracks and scratches on it were the size of Grand Canyon, but I cherished this piece of antique furniture, it reminded me of my childhood. Back then, it seemed fresh, even though half of the desk was stashed with different size jars that were filled with suspicious substances like; paints, glue, glister and many other stinky things. They were my grandfather’s tools. He never threw anything away,he always said it was his “duty” to repair broken or unwanted things, though, after his death all of his repaired collection ended at the flea market. 

     I drummed my fingers by the wooden surface of the table and then traced with my thumb on a gray curved stain. I tried to find anything in particular to think about and drew my thumb from the stain to a crack. The wind blew again and with my nose, I took a whiff of the fresh scent of old wood, catching a row of chills as well. I jumped up and closed the window. Immediately, the odor of old wood spreads across the room. It was a rather unpleasant sweet and rusty odor mixed with a smell of old paints. I got used to it and paid no attention, because the table was the only thing I had as a memory of my Grandfather. 

     I returned to my seat and continued my journey through my memories. It wasn't really a journey. It was more of an attempt to trace step by step my life until this point, and where to begin, if not from the very beginning... 

     Our purely suburban area never had many outsiders. It was uncomfortably located very far from the civilization. Everyone knew everyone, gossip spreads rapidly and all strangers were treated suspiciously. Our house, I looked around my childhood bedroom. I grew up in this house. We've moved in here when I was three and my sister was only a baby. My mother was briefly married to my father, then divorced and remarried again. My sister Valeria had different last name. Her father was my mother's husband number two, but I remember nothing of him. As my father, he was never in our lives.

     Valeria was always energetic, though as sisters we’ve never been close growing up. A strange gap between us always kept us apart, and as she moved out from our house, the distance got only larger in both meanings. Now her life concentrated on her husband and their three kids. My sister and Gus had been dating throughout the high school. Then they got married and moved to Delaware. Well, technically, they ran away and secretly got married, but it was long time ago. Now, Gus is a fisherman. First, when Charlotte was born, he tried to work as a car salesclerk. Then, when Tommy came along, he took fishing as a second job. However, later it completely become his prime occupation. Sometimes, I think that he actually likes it a lot, because he makes those trips to the north of Alaska where he stays for nearly a month each time. 

     The truth is, I see very little of them, and those rare visits always darkened by a lack of mutual understanding. Valeria has the same character as our mother. She is easily irritable and lives on pure emotion. It was like when she jump into marriage hardly finishing school, not even considering college or all that life that could be possible for both of them. 

     As for our mother Roberta, now she lives somewhere in India with her new husband. When Maximilian and Roberta met, I thought that he didn't match her in any area of normal human interaction. He was all spirituality and devotion. He had long hair and wore loose overalls. Of course, from my description you can guess that he was Buddhist. And Roberta was a busy materialistic to the backbone petulant woman with exhausting job...But, he turned out to be a good man by nature who cured her long term depression. It seems that she is happy with him.