"If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world."
C.S. Lewis
Why must this world be so torturously dull? Alex thought to herself for the umpteenth time that night as she gazed in front of her, not looking at anything in particular. Screams of small children and the wafting smell of popcorn lingered in the air. She took a great deep breath thinking, trying to calm the overwhelming sadness the movie she had just watched brought her. Her muscles ached to swing great weapons in battle and her fingers tingled with the wish to cast just one tiny spell. Just like in the stories that she willingly dove headfirst into. What use was reality when the world of fantasy and adventure was the place you truly belonged?
Why must this world be so torturously dull?
Her tennis shoes scraped against the cracking parking lot. She could hear the rocks she kicked in front of her, but couldn't see them in the darkness. Dark thundering clouds were blocking the moonlight. Friends continued to yell over each other, replaying their favorite scenes and a couple walking to their car, fighting. The shorter, plump woman was flinging her hands in the air.
"You never see any movies I want to see!"
Alex rolled her eyes. The world seemed to be full of pathetic issues. She stopped watching the news. She couldn't take the pitiful arguing of social issues and if this politician should resign or if this party was going to lose power. She was tired of hearing her friends and family complain about insignificant things: What are we going to do today? What are we going to eat? What movie are we going to see? Why won't he call me back? Why? Why?! WHY?!
Why must this world be so torturously dull?
Why couldn't Alex find herself any problems worth fighting for? She wanted to fight for king and country. To fight a great enemy and meet even greater allies. Her mother's words rang in her ears, 'You cannot live your life in a book. They aren't real. You have to face reality.'
But she couldn't. What would life be without dreaming of living in a world far more grand than this? She would rather live in her head, hoping for something greater to come, than to accept and to succumb to the mediocrity of the world around her.
She sat down gently on the bus stop bench. Her thumb brushed lovingly over the movie ticket in her hand. She read over the majestic text several times: THE HOBBIT: THE BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES. What a grand story. It was her favorite - and also most hated - book. She had come to love the characters of the book more than she loved her friends. First reading the Hobbit when she was eleven, she had reread the old copy so many times pages were beginning to fall out. Every time the end seemed to bother her more and more.
Tolkien was such a great writer, and he had so much history of Middle Earth, one could only wonder if he had lived there himself. While her friends were talking about vacationing to LA and New York, she found herself wanting to visit Hobbiton. She watched as rain droplets began to fall onto the small canopy over her. She smiled. Oh how Alex loved the rain. The smell, the feeling of being drenched in fresh rainwater.
"Good evening."
Alex snapped back to the present moment and saw sitting beside her was an older man. He was wearing a dark trench coat and a cap, to hide himself from the elements she presumed. She realized she was staring at him, her mouth open, appearing to be rude, but he started before she could speak
"I'm terribly sorry, I've just heard someone use the phrase 'Good morning' and I thought while I was here I'd try it out, though I don't think I'll be using it in the future now."
"Hi, sorry," she said, shaking herself out of her thoughts, "good evening."
"Did you go see a film this evening?"
Surprised by his continuing of the conversation, she nodded, looking at her ticket again. She held it up in the air, "The new Hobbit movie."
"Ah," he replied, nodding his head, "And what did you think?"
"Good as can be expected, did you see it?"
"Oh, no, I prefer to live the stories rather than see them, but it has been a tale I have been most interested in for a long time."
Alex narrowed her eyes, wanting to ask him to elaborate, but then gave a silent nod to his statement, older people speak in such odd ways. There stood a long pregnant pause. Alex twisted the hem of her t-shirt around her finger.
"So what are you doing near the theatre if not watching a movie that's showing?" Alex asked, trying to mend the silence.
The older man looked back "I am looking for a hero of sorts. I have a great adventure approaching me, yet all of the heroes seem to be too bothered in other adventures to be interested in my small task."
Again, Alex was conflicted between asking the man to elaborate or keeping quite and praying that the bus would arrive soon. Rather, as she did when she was uncomfortable, relied on sarcasm.
"I don't think you'll be finding any "heroes" around this place. Life is pretty boring here," she let out a harsh laugh. More so than she intended to.
The older man held her gaze for a long moment, as if he was studying her. She suddenly hoped he hadn't interpreted her sarcasm for rudeness. She hadn't meant to be critical of his statement. His steel blue eyes were boring into her and she looked down into her lap, uncomfortable by the attention.
"Perhaps that may be, but I think there are heroes in the most unexpected of places," he murmured, his tone very serious and more gravely than it had been previously.
Alex began to respond, but the bus came to a screaming halt in front of them, drowning out her voice.
The man stood and walked towards the bus without another word. She felt the oddest sensation to run after him and beg him to continue speaking. His words were so mystic. The bus doors opened, but rather than stepping inside he turned towards her.
"I believe I forgot to get your name, my dear." It was a statement. Not a question. One Alex couldn't refuse.
"Alexandria," she called back, "Alexandria Lawson."
He nodded slowly and left her with a knowing smile as he turned and entered the bus.
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