Kuunari

a return to the series of short stories inspired by songs.

She sang songs to me as a child.

We played in the tall grass behind the old Don and Bob’s restaurant, eating the free popcorn, and trying to catch the grasshoppers and laughing when we do.

The sun would beat down on us, but she always made sure I wore enough sunscreen.  My mom always left a note on the counter with a bottle of it nearby, as she new our love of adventures.

I would walk hand in hand until we reached that field, and then I could contain my excitement no more, and I would run ahead, causing the birds gathered in the freshly aerated grass to eat the seeds and tasty worms to scatter.

We never knew why they kept the grass so tall in that field.  I remember going back there in high school and finding a playground there now, but it was just as empty as it was when I was younger.

She was my first love.  A love that could never be fulfilled, but one that was true.  I was home for the holidays, and happened to run into her.  She had gained weight, and her hair was prematurely gray.  I caught a sliver of the love I had for her as she smiled when she saw me, but it was gone as soon as she began telling me her tale of woe.

I hope that some day, it’ll be different with the one I marry, I tell myself.