Five years spent between four block walls, hours and days lived with no activity, and it seemed, now, as if he should walk these familiar rooms like nothing had passed, as if he had been here yesterday. His body walked rote paths through the archways, knowing where to sit with the best light and where to find the bathroom while half asleep. Very rarely he walked smack into a wall as his body remembered other walls, the cramped spaces and close turns, but no one dared to comment. He’d never closed his windows often and they remained open to let in the sea air that he could not take in enough. In contrast, his door had never been closed and now… now he kept it shut or opened only a sliver to let in the sounds of life and movement.
He knew it confused his brother. Lee always threw the door open and sprawled on his couch and dragged him outside and tried to find the ghosts of his old light steps and fit his feet back into them. And he didn’t mind the dance. He’d missed sparring, sailing, laughing and drinking with friends. But he’d lost years, alone, and he carried the weight of those four stone block walls and long periods of grey nothing. It had worn him down. Stronger and harder. Lee, well, his brother just wanted him back. But there are some things that once broken require ages of glacial change before there could be a fragile hope of repair.
His fingers caressed a thin leather band in his coat pocket and traced the words embossed into the leather, I veri cuori non conoscono confini.
Hey, the first line of this piece was stolen from Gwen over at ApprenticeNeverMaster. Check out her blog tomorrow for the original piece.