I sat in the hammock at my grandma's. It was my favorite place to just sit. I sat and stared at the horizon; beyond the hill, beyond anything. I stared at the colors. The blue faded into the pinks and oranges with a swatch of purple to the side.
"Lemonade?" My grandma asked.
"You didn't have to," I mumbled. She was almost eighty. There was no need for her to be fetching and getting for me.
"I know," she paused, "but I also know how you are when you're out here. You disappear. I'm surprised you don't have a notebook."
The corners of my mouth twitched up. "Yeah. Me too." The past two years since I've been here, I've been writing. I'd gone through more than a few notebooks. "I just wanted to watch this time."
"I can appreciate that." My grandma liked to paint. She could understand the art of just watching. "You always have been a watcher." She launched into some story of when I was a baby and I never smiled; only ever watched and stared. I chuckled.
"Yeah. Your yard is just so...peaceful."
"I know. Poppa and I like to sit out here, too." There was always someone out on the patio. Either my grandpa or my grandma or both. We ate dinner out here most nights when it was warm, and we just relaxed. Some times my parents and brothers visited, but mostly it was just the three of us. And I was just fine with that. I was content to live out the rest of my life here. I had gone back to my roots; to the person I once was.
And Katlyn seemed to have her head on straight now, making it entirely possible that I could. I could watch the sun and nature all day everyday
YOU ARE READING
Queen Lydia
General FictionLydia Thiel has always been a natural leader; no matter the situation, people of any age would instinctively turn to her for direction, even if she herself didn't know the way. However, with every group, there are always the nonbelievers. So, after...
