Alphabet Soup

Abscond

Abscond

        Alex sat hunched over the desk in his room, clicking his pen absently as he waited for the inspiration for tonight’s poem to come to him. What would it be this time? The stars twinkling outside? The rain that was steadily tapping against his bedroom window? The fluffy orange cat curled up on top of his pillow? He didn’t know. After eleven straight months of writing a poem every single night, Alex still didn’t have the foggiest idea how to predict where his next idea would come from. All he knew was that his muse always found a way to give him something to write about. Anything from angels to zebras could be the subject of his next poem.

        After a little over a half an hour of false starts and scratched out words, Alex decided to get up and away from his desk. If inspiration had no intention of coming to him tonight, he would have to hunt it down himself. Alex picked up his light blue spiral notebook, pressing it tightly against his chest. Alex paused for a moment to give his cat a brief scratch behind the ears before seeking fresh ideas elsewhere.

        The house’s ancient stairs creaked noisily no matter how cautiously Alex tiptoed his way down them. Each groan from the aged wood seemed like an explosion of sound at eleven at night. Alex was used to staying up well past midnight himself thanks to the copious amounts of homework his college professors seemed oh so fond of throwing at him during the school year, but Alex’s father was almost always asleep by nine, especially on warm summer nights like this one. 

        Alex let out a soft sigh of relief, almost as quiet as the delicate whispering of a moth’s wings, once he finally made it to the bottom of the stairs. Since only the stairs seemed traitorously inclined to cry out whenever Alex snuck out, Alex slipped away into the night almost effortlessly once his descent was complete. The only noticeable noise for the rest of the journey into the outdoors was the faint click of the door locking itself behind him.

        Finally free to relax, Alex soon found himself dashing without a care in the world to his favorite spot. After being cooped up in that stifling house, nothing made Alex happier than to spend time in the clearing that was a fifteen minute jog from his home. His mother had shown it to him a dozen years ago and he had been coming there as often as he could since. The fresh air and the delicate beauty of the dozens of flowers scattered throughout the grassy expanse always allowed Alex to unwind under the watchful eyes of the stars.

        Tonight, Alex stretched himself out on the grass with his trusty notebook laying on top of his stomach along with his pen. He carefully positioned his hands behind his head and allowed the night air to wrap him in a loving embrace. Alex’s mother had passed away last August after she lost her battle with breast cancer, but he always felt like she was still alive whenever he came here. If Alex closed his eyes and concentrated really hard, he could almost swear that the cool breeze gently stroking his hair was whispering words of love and comfort to him just like his mother had always done. 

        But he had already written countless poems about his mother. He had jotted down hundreds of stanzas in her honor, trying to commit every single detail of their time together to memory. Back then, tears had slipped down Alex’s face even more often than his pen had scratched against the paper in his notebook. Alex couldn’t let his grief consume him, couldn’t let it drive him back into the pitch black void of despair that always seemed to loom just on the edge of his vision. His mother wouldn’t want to see him so upset. No, he had to find something more pleasant to occupy his mind and to inspire his verses. Alex could escape his despair filled home with very little difficulty, but he had to put a lot of effort into escaping his sorrow to find a glimmer of happiness these days. 

        Alex was just about to get back up and head home after what seemed like an eternity of unoriginal ideas marching through his mind when a faint glow caught his eye. Was that just a particularly bright star? No, stars definitely didn’t move around like that. Squinting through the darkness, Alex managed to spot dozens of specks of light dancing around above him. Instead of stars, Alex had found something much more humble shining in the night: fireflies. 

        Alex sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the tiny creatures as they shone brightly all around him. He smiled to himself; sometimes he got so lost in his own memories and thoughts that he might as well be completely blind to the beauty surrounding him. These tiny bugs probably had pretty tough lives thanks to their size and relatively short lifespans, but they still found the time to illuminate the night for a while with their joy. 

        Perhaps it was time he also learned to find moments of happiness in the middle of his sorrows. Yes, he had been coping with his poems, but that was all Alex had really been doing all this time. He hadn’t really been taking the time to let himself smile and be happy for what he had left. By stealing a few moments of happiness for himself a day, maybe Alex could finally move on and escape the misery that had imprisoned him ever since his mother had died. 

        Alex would never stop grieving for his mother, but he knew she would want him to experience happiness again. He would always miss her, but the best way to get close to her again was to embrace the joy they had always shared with each other. For his first step towards lightening the massive weight of the grief he had carried for so long and pursuing a brighter future, Alex began to write a poem about the carefree bugs that cast rays of hope back into his life.