Firebird (Revised)

Chapter 2- Dreams

Chapter 2- Dreams

She looked up at him, her green eyes boring into his black. Her golden hair shone brighter than the morning sun but her usual smile was gone. “Don’t worry Arielle.” He said, tucking a curl behind her ear. “I’ll be home soon.”

   The small girl wrapped her short arms around him, burying her teary face in his shoulder. “Don’t leave, papa. Please.”

  He hugged her tightly. “I have to, but I’ll be back…” He lifted her face to his but couldn’t find the words to say. So he stared at her a moment, locking her image in his mind. He gently wiped her tears away, hating to leave her. “I love you Arielle.”

  “I love you too, papa.”

  He stood as a woman started towards him but before he could see her, she began fading away. “Clara.”

 

 Often I dreamed of Arielle and Clara though I’d never met nor seen them. I questioned whether they were even real. The dream was so clear when I was younger and faded slowly with each passing year. Some days I would think of them randomly, like it was a nonexistent memory.

  I sat up, taking a few seconds to remember where I was. I remembered quickly, feeling the bus bump roughly along the dirt road. The sun shone brightly outside over seemingly endless fields. Long tufts of white clouds were scattered about the pale blue sky. Simply gazing out at it all gave me a pensive feeling that mixed with the thrill of traveling with the circus.

   I gazed out the smudged window, watching the world swiftly pass in a blur. It wasn’t so different from my town as of then but I knew eventually, I would come to someplace entirely unfamiliar. I’d never seen the ocean or mountains or hills hardly. The thought of all the places I would get to see only fed my excitement.

   “Goodmorning, love.”

   I spun on the cushioned bench where I had slept. I could’ve sworn Astley wasn’t anywhere near me when I had first awoke but there he was. His hat sat lopsided on his blonde hair and a long wooden pipe hung from his lips. “Sleep well?”

   “Oh…yes.” I stuttered, still not used to the way he could appear and disappear but being a magician, it made sense that he would.

   Astley handed me a plate of food from the small bar. It was loaded with strawberries beside a bowl of oatmeal and a slice of toast. It was much more of a substantial breakfast than I would have expected, being on the road and all.  

   “We should be in Warbrooke within the hour.” Astley said blowing a green smoke ring. “It takes a dreadfully long time, wouldn’t you say?”

   I popped a strawberry in my mouth. It was as if he had known they were my favorite fruit because he gave me a generous pile. “What do we do when we get there?”

   “We set up, practice, and then perform tomorrow.”