This be me first official short story. Huzzah. Lots of symbolism and a tribute to my book I am soon to be writing. Enjoy :)
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The Glass Box
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The street teemed with the day's activities as people bustled about, all with individual intentions for the time given them. Fresh snowfall crunched under scores of boots creating a rhythm-less melody which could only be appreciated by one who listens and can tune out the incessant murmurs of the townsfolk to whom the boots belong. The buildings along the road meshed snugly against each other and greeted their guests warmly with cozy fires inside and soft candlelight in the windows. Tucked away in a tight gap between two shops was a glass box. And in this box was a boy.
The boy was quite content to simply sit for the time being, as it wasn't particularly cold in his transparent cube free from the chill winds buffeting around him. He watched the crowd, entranced in the vivid colors each person bore. Whether it was their cloths, hair, skin, or even their eyes, the boy saw them all as bright. Simply bright.
A small family caught his attention as they passed by, smiling gleefully in their contentedness of familiar company. The boy stood up and put his hand to the glass between himself and the merry group. They walked by without so much as a glance in his direction. His breath fogged in front of him.
As the family moved beyond his sight, the boy's focus drifted to a few neighborhood kids coming close to his humble niche. The first boy at the head of the group stood a few inches taller than the rest and a light-haired girl drifted at his side. Two other boys followed closely behind. The tall one caught sight of the boy in the glass box and nodded in his direction, whispering to his gang. They drew closer and the leader tapped on the glass saying something the boy couldn't quite catch. The other boys began grinning. Shortly, they sauntered off laughing as they went.
The boy took his seat once more and crossed his legs looking at his hands in front of him. A tap on his box brought him out of his thoughts as he lifted his head. It was the bright-haired girl. She smiled apologetically and spoke softly. He tilted his head, confused, and leaned in closer to hear. She spoke again, but the boy could only make out a distant hollow murmur through the clear material between them. Glancing quickly to the side, the girl's golden hair tossed in her face. She looked back to the boy and said a last word before skipping back to her group and out of the boys vision.
He looked back at his hands. Lying down in the shadows of the ancient brick structures beside him, he drifted slowly into a dreamless sleep, left to himself.
A sharp scratching noise called him out of his peace. The boy opened his eyes and looked around searching for the source of the disturbance. In an instant, he completely forgot about the noise as he glanced around him and saw a large grassy field and found his box comfortably placed under a massive maple tree. At the tree line were a tangle of burrs and roots that led deeper into the wood.
The rasping sound came again. The boy looked up and fell back with short breath. His vision was filled with what he perceived as a writhing mass of flames above him. Staring in an equal balance of terror and wonder, the boy began distinguishing what looked to be feathers. With time and some measure of imagination, he watched as the blazing colors became a great bird. A bright eye, looking itself to be of fire, came into view with a gleaming silver beak. As he stared, the great creature lifted his head and looked to the tree line.
The boy followed his gaze to see a boy and girl start making their way through the tangled brambles that lead into the wood. Immediately, he recognized the children - his very own kin. The siblings continued on while the boy remained silently in his small glass box.
He lifted his eyes back to the beautiful bird, wonder and awe still present, but with an expression that said all. Hope and desperation. Longing and pain. It was the noiseless cry that spoke of sorrow and loneliness unbearable.
The mighty creature held his gaze with a perfect mixture of understanding and compassion. The fire in its eyes felt like smoldering coals. Suddenly, two massive red-orange wings came into the boys vision as they rose upwards and outwards. With a roar of wind and a crackling of fire, the wings came down, completely surrounding the glass box. The boy fell back and covered his face with his arm, and his ears rang with an intense crash of shattering glass.
The boy near expected to be torn apart by the shards of his container or consumed by the vision of flame and power of wind emanating from the great beast. Yet instead what the child felt was a calm washing of rain falling on him. Slowly a plethora of sounds invaded his eardrums with a clarity he had never before known. Birds chirping above, wind brushing gently across the leaves, the soft rushing of water flowing mere feet away.
He opened his eyes. The field was gone. Before his feet poured a stream tucked in a shallow gash in the ground below. All around, mighty oak trees towered spaciously. Lush green grass tickled at his toes beneath. A beautifully crafted bench sat under the shade of one of the colossal structures facing the small river at an angle. There was enough clearing to lie back in the grass and watch the sky, whether it be clouds or stars.
The boy stood and turned around, taking in the wonders of this new location. The next sight that came into his vision was a man standing in front of him. He wore a simple white robe, but from his entire being erupted a light like nothing the boy had ever seen. In the daylight he blazed like the sun, but never burned the eyes that gazed. At night he shone as the moon and stars with a gentle gleam that spread about the clearing. His presence set the place alive and caused a profound peace to rest in the very soul of the boy within his radiance.
Then the man smiled and spoke. His voice washed over the boy like rain and mingled with the rush of the river behind him. The radiance of his being brightened at his countenance.
"Welcome home."
