Dazzle
Without much thought to his actions, Martin wandered through the orchard, dazzled at the spring blooms. His footsteps muffled by the newly turned earth, he heard sparrows arguing over wind speeds and hunting grounds. Or whatever it is that sparrows argue over. Something drew him deeper into the rows of trees.
Martin did not spend much thought on fanciful dreams, yet here he was. Miles from home, walking barefoot in a peach orchard, wondering “Where are you going, you fool? Go back to your car and go home.”
Yet, he continued on. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t looking for anything, but his eyes searched behind each tree, around each branch and down through the rows as far as he could see.
The little ramshackle cottage was nearly hidden by the overgrown vines. The land reclaiming space taken from it. Rounding the end of the row, he saw it. He had never been here, but knew exactly how that cottage looked inside. He could feel the morning sunlight pouring through its window, warming his young face.
Had he been here before? Impossible. This is nothing like New York City where he was born and raised. Memories from another time, another life seeped into his veins. He remembered.
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