Mavi and I spent my last three days together in Manila before I had to return to the United States. My Peace Corps contract had expired. We hung out at the mall, watched the sunset at Bay Walk, playfully wrestled in the bed sheets. And then it was time to go to the airport.
“You don’t need to come with me,” I told her as we packed our things.
Her eyes were watering. “I want to,” she said.
I pulled her to me and held her. “Don’t cry,” I said. “Just think, this time next year you’ll be with me.”
“It’s the fan,” she said, giggling and crying. It was our little joke every time she cried, blaming the fan blowing dust in her eyes.
I looked at the clock. “Well, its time,” I said. “Ready?”
We walked down to the lobby. Our driver was waiting.
Mavi gripped my hand the whole way to the airport. She cried, smiled, rubbed my arm.
We pulled up at the drop off. I opened the door and got out, grabbed my bags. Mavi got out, too.
“Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “I’ll get the paperwork started as soon as land. Promise. You’ll get your visa in no time.”
Tears flooded her cheeks. “One year,” she said.
“That’s not so long,” I said.
I helped her in the van. As I pulled the door shut and walked away, my eyes began to sting.
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Kim, what a wonderful non-fiction flash. I love the whole ‘running’ theme throughout the story. I’m glad you’ve started slow down to walk. 🙂
Elizabeth,
I imagine the cherry blossoms must have been beautiful, what you did get to see of them. Thank you for sharing.
Linda,
Both your stories were so poignant. I remember ‘Stone’ and loved it then. The second reading made me appreciate it even more. Your bio piece also echoed the solace writers can take in the act of writing. Thank you so much for sharing.
Matt,
I really enjoyed hearing you read in ‘Arrivals’, even though the story itself was sad. Also, in ‘Sessions’ I think you should
reach for your dreams, no matter what the counsellor says.
I’ll comment on the others later, as I have to go for now. Everything I’ve read here is wonderful!
Matthew,
Your ‘good bye’ story made my eyes water too.
Stephen,
I can picture my son playing the semaphore game. Nice one!
Al,
Thank you for sharing that. The newsprint flags and the throngs of people walking together really create an image. I can’t imagine what you felt like then in that city. It must have been terrifying.
Linda,
Around midnight is tough. Knowing what was probably a bit of the inspiration makes it all the more poignant. I think when we’re reminded of our own mortality it makes us want to accomplish something that will last longer than our sentient selves.
You always leave room for the reader to think after the words are read.
–John
Dear all, I love reading your non-fiction stories (every one brought me to tears), but most of all I love hearing your voices tell your stories. You are all ‘real’ but hearing you makes you seem even more real. Thank you. Peace…