Once Upon A Journey
Once upon a journey, I walked down a street and passed you. In my peripheral vision, a piece of you got lodged in my mind's eye and I didn't even try to rub my eyes and clear my sight; you were here to stay. I walked on.
Once upon a journey, I turned a corner and saw your reflection in a steamy coffee shop window before some anonymous other walked between us and wiped the reflection away, unknowingly taking your place to enjoy their warmth on this frosty winter morning. I walked on.
Once upon a journey, I opened a page in a second-hand bookshop and a piece of you fell out as I scanned the words and they reminded me of that fragment in my eye. The words were jumbled and I couldn't make sense of them; the only thing I was certain of was that somehow, they were you. I closed the book, and walked on.
Once upon a journey, I read a signpost and the letters rearranged themselves into your name, before I took a second glance and they were back to their natural order, pointing me to some other irrelevant place on my journey. I walked on.
Once upon a journey, I sat down on a bench to think about the world and wrote you a letter, then folded it into a paper aeroplane and cast it to the wind. I didn't know where it should go, so I sent it in the direction the signpost had suggested, wondering who it might reach. I walked on.
Once upon a journey, I boarded a plane and took myself anywhere the path may go. I brought a small suitcase of memories and the uprooted title of 'home', and told myself I could assign it to wherever I choose. I decided I would assign it to you. I came down from cloud nine, and landed somewhere even better. I walk on; I walk home.