Stone Walls Short Stories

The Swallows

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The Swallows

The stones grew hot during noon. Only natives dared walk barefoot across the pavement, but even they quickened their pace so their skin wouldn't wither from the heat.

The air was dry and the sky a piercing blue, swallows swooping in over the water. Summer stretched its arms, entangling the valley.

Benjamin enjoyed these days most, languidly sprawled out on the boardwalk near the lake. Big, deciduous trees sheltered him from the sun's relentlessness as he watched people scurry along from underneath his quiet hide-out.

Summers were slow in the village and Benjamin did not mind. He'd spend all his hours on his boardwalk, accompanied by his favorite books as he would feel the water dry on his legs. The breeze would skirt through the hair, making it feel as if tiny bugs cascaded down towards his feet.

Normally, not even that sensation could distract him from the pages, but today his attention was something a book couldn't keep. He was thinking about the boy he had met yesterday.

Benjamin had been scouring the shelves of his favorite bookstore, looking for a new read, when he'd spotted him; eyebrows dipped together in concentration, but every other feature of his face soft.

He was holding one of Benjamin's favorite books, the tops of his fingers just barely sticking out from underneath the long sleeves of his shirt.

Benjamin was often too shy, but something about this boy compelled him.

"You know, if you're thinking about getting it, I would really recommend you to do so," he'd said, coming up next to the handsome boy.

A blush raised on the stranger's cheeks, as if Benjamin had caught him in something far more intimate than reading the blurb on the back cover of a novel.

He glanced at Benjamin sideways, a questioning look in his eyes.

"It's one of my favorites," Benjamin supplied.

The AC hummed in reply as the silence of the other boy stretched thin. Just as Benjamin was to walk away in shame, the boy replied, "Why is that?"

His voice sounded soft and sweet, like clear water cascading over the pebbles in a mountain brook. Benjamin knew he needed this boy to speak with him again.

"Well, I mostly just like the message," he began. "It's totally okay to be yourself, no matter who you are or might be."

At those words the boy looked him into the eyes for the first time, something sparking there. They were now speaking between the lines, and as someone who spent most of his life between the written word, Benjamin had gotten pretty good.

The boy was tapping his fingers on the cover of the book absentmindedly. "It sounds really good. As if it has deeper layers to it."

Benjamin's enthusiasm sparked at that, momentarily forgetting to keep his cool as he gushed, "Oh, it really does! There's all kinds of theories about certain story arcs." He took a breath to calm down. "But I really can't tell you about those until you've read it, first," he finished softly.

The boy blushed again and ducked his head, taking a moment to stare at the object in his hands before giving a sly glance to Benjamin.

"Well, maybe you could tell me about it after I've read it," he said softly, not meeting Benjamin's eyes.

Electricity sparked through Benjamin's body at those words. "I'd love to," he replied. And in a rush of bravery added, "Is there any way I can contact you?"