Memories.
The sun sparkled with its final streaks of red and gold, as it slowly started to set in the west. I was standing alone on the hill looking over the old town. The place where I was born, and had where I had lived almost my entire life. The place I had left. The sun fell from sight over the distant skyline, and the world grew darker by measure as the minutes passed.
I stood a while longer in the fading light, and took out a cigarette to smoke. I went and sat on a nearby boulder as I lit the smoke. The millions of electric lights throughout the town slowly started to light up one-by-one, until the world was dark and lit up in magic glow of dim, pointed light, spread out over the valley like a colourful blanket. A few late cars where on the streets, most likely heading home after the end of the working day. Their headlights shone brightly as well, as they drove past down below.
A world of light, and colour and sound, wrapped in darkness. The wind was light, but cold and crisp. It cut through my light jersey, and even my jeans. It froze my face a bit, especially the tip of my nose. The cigarette tasted good on my chest in the cold. I blew out a cloud of smoke into the wind. It was carried swiftly away in the open air. I took another drag, and replaced it with another waft of smoke, that was also in its turn quickly blown away by the wind.
So I smoked on as I stood on the hill and looked over the brightly lit town. The express train from Baton Rouge was coming around a bend on the outskirts of town. Its whistle blew once long and hard, as it came rumbling into the first station. The sound travelled clearly up to where I stood far up on the hill. The wheels crackled and beat with a distinct rhythm on the steel tracks. It was a familiar and pleasing sound to my ears.
There was a million other distant noises I could hear in the night; cars driving past down below, dogs barking somewhere far away, loud music coming from a house not too far off, and countless other unrecognizable noises that proved the old town was still alive as it had always been. Just as I remembered it.
After I had had my smoke, I stubbed it out with the sole of my shoe on the tarmac. Then I slowly started to walk along the road down the hill. As I passed the first houses coming down, I could smell someone’s good cooking drifting on the air. It smelled like roast meat and vegetables. I smiled a bit to myself at this, as I took another cigarette from my pack and lit it.
I walked almost happily, but lost in thought back home, while I had my smoke along the way…
