START WRITING FICTION Week 2

I remember clearly what I felt...

It was fear and uncertainty and it terrified me down to my bones as I watched from our living room window , with my eyes transfixed to the outside and what appeared to be strange and unusual paths.

I remember how much gut strength I painstakingly gathered to step my feet out of the door and to push my whole body beyond the limits of our small flat.

I remember how the shivering breeze of winter wind embraced me and I remember remaining like a still strange statue for a moment.

I remember taking a deep full breath of fresh air and I remember vividly recalling my husband's confiding words, "It would not hurt to go outside".

I remember it well, how my senses were strong enough to catch even the smallest details of my new sorroundings - thinning trees, wide glass windows, pyramid-shaped rooftops and bicycle paths.

Then I remember shuffling off my consciousness to flashback mode that brought me back to the old neighborhood I knew .  My senses  responded obediently and suddenly I  could smell the smoking barbecue grills. I could hear  the loud and unbreaking barks of stray dogs. I could see bystanders  merry making as they held up San Miguel beer bottles in the air and street peddlers, calling out and pushing their heavy load of 'for sale' items.

But then  the touch of winter with its  tingling fingers poked my cheeks and then I remember waking up and my consciousness shook back to reality. With a note of determination I whispered to myself, “This is now my new home” while I tiptoed my boots through the new paths, tightly hugged in the warmth of my  thick coat.