Homecoming 1 of 1 Rated PG Characters: CM, reference to Rachel Ellenstein Feel free to archive it anyone, just please let me know where you are = putting it! :-) This was a Mid Week Challenge off the HolyGround forum. One was = supposed to use lyrics to set the mood of the piece a la the Lyric = Wheel. All feedback should be directed to: celedon1@airmail.net Homecoming The December snow crunched underfoot. He silently cursed the old lock = on the door before him then with a swift shake of the door the lock gave = way . The door swung open; he entered the darkened room before him, = glancing over at the sheet-draped pieces of furniture and artwork that = was strewn about the large expanse of floor space. He went over to the = window to look out. A winter's day in a deep and dark December=20 I am alone=20 Gazing from my window to the streets below=20 On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow=20 I am a rock, I am an island=20 Memories came flooding back as he gazed down to the streets then upwards = to the now changed skyline that reflected the futuristic reality that = was now the present in the outside world. It was so vastly different = since the last time he had stood in this very spot several years ago on = another winter's day to watch those who were watching him. Rachel's = death had re-opened wounds he would rather not re-live again but yet he = knew he would have to. =20 He turned abruptly from the window and began removing the sheets from = the furniture to see what lay underneath and check out the condition of = each piece. As he worked, his mind was whirling as he tried to think = ahead of what his life would be like while his heart steeled itself once = more from what he truly was feeling at the moment now that he was back = in his own home and alone once again. I've built walls, a fortress deep and mighty=20 That none may penetrate=20 I have no need for friendship, friendship causes pain=20 It's laughter and it's loving I disdain=20 I am a rock, I am an island=20 The muscles in his jaw clenched and relaxed as he moved methodically = about his work. Each piece revealed something new that needed replacing = or stirred up painful memories that he would have rather kept from = experiencing again. His gaze directed itself to the wall which was = lined with a multitude of old photographs, tintypes, paintings, = certificates from the differing eras and lives he had led. They = softened as they fell upon a large framed painting that took center = stage in the midst of all the other memorabilia. With a few swift strides, he was before it. Tremulously, he reached out = to brush the thick layer of dust away from it. His face took on a level = of grief and sadness that one wouldn't have thought possible as he = stared with longing at the lovely and fresh-faced woman in the portrait. = Tears unwillingly seemed to rise in his eyes; he swallowed at the = hardened lump in his throat that threatened to wreck everything he was = trying to do here.=20 Don't talk of love, well I've heard the word before It's sleeping in my memory=20 I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died=20 If I'd never loved, I never would have cried=20 I am a rock, I am an island=20 Finally, with great reluctance, he turned his back on the portrait and = moved on down the wall, adjusting and dusting each and everything that = was hung there. But a distinct crunching of glass underfoot caused him = to look down at the floor. =20 A picture had fallen face down from the wall; he reached down, picked it = up, shaking it off as he did so and turned it over to see which one it = had been. A young woman stared back at him from the black and white photo held in = his hand. He slowly drifted to go back to the window to look at it = better by the light provided by antique street lamps outside his now = dilapidated brownstone. One finger traced the outlines of the face in = the picture while his voice shakily said, "Rachel..." Mental images came flooding back of war and gunfire along with the = discovery of a very frightened little girl in an abandoned warehouse. = They then dissolved into a happy girl in pigtails swinging on an old = tire swing in the large backyard then rapidly shifted from one image to = another as the little girl became a young woman then an older one in his = mind.... Time it was=20 And what a time it was=20 It was=20 A time of innocence=20 A time of confidences=20 Long ago, it must be=20 I have a photograph=20 Preserve your memories=20 They're all that's left of you=20 He sighed deeply and sat on the windowsill, looking at nothing and = noticing nothing that happened below him. His heart was torn between = tearing in two from the numbing ache it was feeling and the hardening = against any show of emotion he might possibly feel about what had = happened. The two emotions warred with one another for some time; = Connor sat with eyes closed until he thought it was safe to open them = again to the world outside and below. =20 The old habit of showing no emotion to the world and others had won out. = =20 He stood. Walking over to his small rotunda behind and just to the = right of the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and loft he threw open = the doors. He walked in and breathed a sigh of relief. Here at least he = could hide from any and all things. He was safe. I have my books and my poetry to protect me=20 I am shielded in my armor=20 Hiding in my room, safe within my womb=20 I touch no one and no one touches me=20 He took the three steps downward into the room then another one before = sinking into the deep blue cushions of his horseshoe shaped couch. He = leaned back his head and closed his eyes to the world once more, = blocking out everything except the feeling that he was home. =20 Home, at long last. I am a rock,=20 I am an island=20 And a rock feels no pain=20 And an island never cries.