Imperfect Pieces

20. streets and alleys

dedicated to the fab kosmicki because she made the new cover woo

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Dad had always told me to walk in alleys, instead of blundering along the main roads with everyone else."You never know where one might lead you," he would say with a smile.

Mom had always told to stick to the main roads, where there were people. "Alleys are dangerous," she would say with a frown, "On TV there are always a bunch of shootings and gangs and bad things in general. Just please don't."

Dad was a book nerd. Rain or shine, he would much rather curl up on the couch with a good book, holding a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon. He liked to have regular TV show marathons and could spend the whole day browsing through a bookstore. The smell of new books and the rustling of pages, hot beverages on rainy days, fictional characters and hopeless romance- that is what he lived for.

Mom liked to be outdoors. She was the first freshman to be in the varsity basketball team, the captain of the lacrosse team in college, and went out for walks regularly despite her old age. Fresh air and the sound of crickets, the whispers of fluttering leaves and the gentle sun shining down on her face, mystery and adventure- that is what she lived for.

I always wondered why they got married. I mean, of course I'm glad that they did, or else I wouldn't be here. But they were both extremely stubborn, very passionate, and so different. They fought over the smallest details, little things that didn't matter. Mom would often complain, saying that he cared more about his fictional characters than her. He would retort, saying that if she wasn't outside all the time, getting herself killed, he might actually have a wife to look after. For a very long time, I didn't understand how they could be together.

One late autumn evening, I finally understood. It was just a regular day. I came home from school to see the two of them lying on the couch, reading a book. Dad was engrossed with his, but Mom was fidgeting like she couldn't sit still. Dad laughed when he noticed this.

"We'll go out later, alright? I promised you a dance last time."

Mom looked at him and walked into the family room, pulling out our old cassette player. She waved a cassette at him with a little smile on her face. He grabbed her hands and pushed it in, pressed play, and I heard the music fill the room. They began to dance the waltz (or at least that's what it should have been), but I'm fairly sure it doesn't involve any jumping and weird arm movements. They look absolutely ridiculous- her in a nightgown and bathrobe, him with sweatpants and a baseball cap, but it was the most beautiful sight I had yet to come across.

The two of them were laughing with as they continued their dance. Mom's eyes were sparkling with life and vigor. Dad was smiling from ear to ear as he caught her in a dip at the end of the tape. When they were done, I quickly ducked into my room, not wanting them to know that I was watching. But that night in bed, I couldn't get them out of my head. Their loving gazes were burned in mind, and I realized at last that I was so wrong.

When I walk along the streets nowadays, I hear his deep voice, belting out lyrics as he organizes his bookshelf. And when I walk in alleys, I remember sitting outside with her for hours on the bench in silence, just stopping for a moment as the world went on without us.

I walk every day in streets and alleys with my chin raised high, and I remember them.

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a/n: WE'RE FINALLY IN THE TWENTIES PSHH ABOUT TIME

i can't it's been like half a year since i started writing this woww