Three Moments

A

    Torrential downpour in the middle of a cold winter night some where in either southern California or upstate new york. Stuffed into a car seat in the back of a small, dying car, I initially peer up and out through the window to my left into the low visibility of the storm. I then watch as the headlights of the small vehicle illuminate a portion of a deserted shopping center. A blue neon light that says "Rentals" radiates back in retaliation. A defeated sigh escapes the mouth of the driver as they reach to open the door. A dark figure, dressed in generic clothing except for a vivid blue denim jacket, rushes to the door of the closed "Rentals" building, and struggles to drop three to four small rectangular packages into a slit. They drop one in the process and yell a muffled profanity, which could have been anything really as its true meaning was swallowed into the storm. The figure then rushes back to the car. The engine starts and the illumination of the building fades away and heads back into the night.

B

    Grey skies top a lightly fogged morning. A dark green ivy riddled incline leads up to a railed walk way. Two men stand outside a car that I am seated in the back of. One is wearing a heavy black coat, black rain hat, and aviator styled gold rimmed glasses. In one hand is a closed, metal tipped black umbrella, in the other is a rolled newspaper. The other man is wearing a grey trench coat and has his back to me so that all I can make of him is black slicked back hair that idles over the collar of the coat. The two men are deep in conversation and starting to become passionate as an argument threatens to break loose. The man in the hat begins to gesture with his hands as his voice grows louder. The man in the trench coat appears to be collected and stands motionless. Suddenly a third figure appears on the walk way above the others. They say something sharply and the man with the hat throws his newspaper into a puddle, its splash landing on both of their pant legs, and grumbles off, throwing his hands into the air as he rounds a corner. The man with his back to me waits for the other man to disappear and then gets back into the car. "Christ," he whispers and starts the engine.

C

    High in the air, the image of a tower pans across my vision. A platform circles around the top of the tower and several figures are moving about it peering out over the landscape. The tower eclipses the sun as i pass by, leaving a shadowed outline burned into my memory. Behind the tower, nestles a small town. The buildings appear to be ancient, with crumbling red tile rooftops that all matter of plant life seem to be trying to climb out of. Some of the buildings, however, appear to be more modern and inhabited. It is a village that has been forgotten and rediscovered and modernized and preserved. Surrounding the town is a vast forest that peaks with hills that are scattered around for miles. Beyond the horizon is an ocean. The sun reflects off the surface of the ocean, burning bright my eyes as I continue on my way through the forest toward my ultimate destination that is still unknown to me.

Author's Note

these are the earliest memories i have and have been searching for them for as long as i can remember. i have actually found two of the three images.