You're in a courtyard...
I climb three flights of steps and walk the catwalk to her room. We are here early and have the dorm to ourselves. Looking down I see the courtyard and imagine co-eds playing frisbee, sunbathing, sitting in the grass for the purpose of studying, but getting distracted by the heady experience of life at twenty. For a minute I think I am looking at her life in the visions before me, but soon realize it is my own. My distant past, my own loves and losses, and days filled with sunshine are the stuff that fill my imagination.
In those days time moved so slowly and all of life was before me. Fifty was old and adulthood exhilarating. How high did I climb? Was it truly only three flights? The view is so different from here. Time goes much faster, and adulthood can be burdensome.
I look at the courtyard again, willing the images of co-eds and youth to return to my mind. I look and look, but the vision is gone. No matter how I try I can not bring it back. It was flickering and fleeting like life itself.
My heart feels heavy as I turn and open the door to her dorm room. Inside she is unpacking boxes , organizing her things and talking happily about the semester to come. It is her turn, her time. And that is her courtyard below.
This is another exercise from The Writer's Book of Days. The prompt was "you are in a courtyard" and I chose a courtyard at Southwestern University that lies between some of the dorms.
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