Disclaimer: I don't own anything really.
The station is just about silent, despite the vibrations of the train passing by. And my suitcase wheels rolling along the solid concrete. That too.
But these are all good things. Vacant sounds and no stares—preferred.
"Where do I go?"
There's stairs to the left and all the way to the right so which? I choose left. Either way, there are stairs and stairs are definitely not preferred right now.
Once they've been beaten, I shuffle as quickly as possible to leave.
Words echo against the hollow walls. The lone attendant waiting at the gate waves and smiles saying, "Have a nice night and thank you for choosing The New Domino Metro Station as your means of travel."
"Oh. Uh…you too." I exit the station.
And I'm already shoved into a wall. Wow. I guess that's the city for you.
"Sorry," the woman mumbles, half to me half to her phone.
"No," I say. "It was my fault."
I squat to pick up my scattered belongings, crawling through a jungle of legs and coats to get to some. "Sorry sorry sorry." I slink back into the crowd somehow, this time on my feet. Maybe it's better if I follow along.
Mom's voice echoes in my head. Hustle and bustle. That's all it is over there.
The wave travels to an intersection where, thankfully, it breaks off into fourths. I run to a wall.
"I know I know," I mumble. "But there's no other place."
A hand goes to my back pocket, taking out the slip of paper (for the third time today). The sloppy writing's been memorized for days but it's just nice to see something familiar.
I look up and breathe. No stars.
Look right, look left. No trees, no grass.
The view's nice though. Skyscrapers, billboards, cars.
Sliding down the wall, I think of Izushi.
Quiet. Small. Green. Home.
"Deep breaths, calm down."
When I open my eyes, I'm surprised to see that the streets have been evacuated by all human presences. Grabbing my things and glancing at street signs, I get on my way.
No stores open, no people chatting, no kids playing. The large clock I pass only says ten. I've seen people out past two in the morning before but this… this is…
"So weird."
A quick glimpse at another street sign tells me I'm one over from where I should be, 110th Drive.
"12536 Maple Lane," I say without eyeing the paper. "You've got this."
I get nowhere in the ten minutes I spend searching for a maple lane to lead me—oh!
Nearly running into a pole, I try to steel myself and maybe even find composure. But what I find instead is something of a greater use. I read first from the sign, then from the slip. Anxiety moves me faster.
11973, 12248, 12453...
Only the faint glow of streetlights guides me now. Where, where, where.
I have to stop and catch my breath. They can never take much, my lungs. And it feels that, with age, they get weaker and weaker.
You can rest now, lungs. Our prize is at arms reach.
12536 Maple Lane—a tall squared building at the end of the street, hidden by a few trees. It's not what's expected when in a city like this, but it's great.
What would be even greater, though, would be to meet her.
I want to yell at myself when my hand shakes, barely steady enough to ring the doorbell.
"Coming!" a voice says from inside.
A part of me was hoping no one would answer.
The door opens and I straighten up. Don't want my first impression to be my worst.
She's average height, with long dark hair. A round face containing deep, thoughtful eyes.
"Yes?" She's tired, I can tell.
I step back and look down.
Like a band-aid, I tell myself. Like a band-aid.
"I think that you've got the wrong—"
"No." I look up. "I don't. Are you… Martha?"
"Yes. Now look, are you selling something or—"
"You're my grandmother."
I'll see you guys next time!
TTFN