Lovisa Schampi | Searching For Home
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Searching For Home

She always thought it was about the destination. So searching for home, she ran away.

Again, and again and again.

Every now and then she found it; in the raging storms, with the crashing thunder and the lightnings illuminating the sky. When the sea was its darkest, wildest self. Sometimes as the sun sank on a canvas of gold and pink.   

“This is it,” she said to the wind. “This is where I belong; in the sky with all those colours, with the waves that rule the ocean and in the violent storms that twists and thrashes in the dark.”

The wind chuckled and pulled her hair.

“Of course it is.”

“So take my body. I want to be free like you.”

“You already are.”

“No, you don’t understand. I want to be the smell of rain when it falls, and the mist that rises again afterwards. I want to be the green in the plants, the fire in the sun and the mystery in the stars.”

“You already are.”

The girl shook her head. Her brow creased as she fought tears back behind her eyes.

“Please!” she cried. “I don’t belong here, this body isn’t mine.”

The wind smiled and kissed her cheek.

“Stop running, home is not ahead of you. It’s here, and you already are all those things that you long so much to become.”

Swirling upwards, the wind disappeared, and for a while the girl sat in silence, staring into nothing.

Misty clouds sailed above her head, birds bickered in the trees and the moon sat like a giant crystal ball in the sky, watching it all.

“No, this isn’t it,” she said, and standing up, she kicked an empty can before she ran away again.

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