@ElderGod-Carrots
He made sure his coat was wrapped around him as he set off to find a good place to set the bird down.
He made sure his coat was wrapped around him as he set off to find a good place to set the bird down.
The city lights blotched out every celestial light spare for the weak moon. Even in nightfall it felt like everything was still awake; it was almost unsettling, stressful, how everything is always so busy.
Alex kept walking, wanting to get as far away from the city as he possibly could. Well, he tried, at least.
The effort felt painfully useless. Alex's neighborhood was only surrounded by more city, larger buildings, more lights.
Alex hummed in thought for a few moments. I could go to the graveyard… that’s quiet…
Maybe Hailey was awake still. She could drive him there.
Or he could just steal his dads car keys, a risk but he could do it. And he did, running back to the house, bird now tucked safely into his shirt pocket and grabbed the car keys, quickly driving off in the car and towards the graveyard.
The starling seemed to take a liking to the soft safety of the shirt pocket. The exhausted little creature actually fell asleep there.
He smiled down at the bird for a moment as he drove, soon enough he arrived at the graveyard. He parked and climbed out, heading towards the graves.
Hailey was right; fireflies were all over, hovering and blinking their lush green lights. The graveyard was in the middle of a historical nature park. A huge territory almost directly in the middle of the city and yet here, the light pollution couldn't turn the night sky dirty purple.
Alex looked around in wonder, asking himself why he hadn't though to come here before. He sat down in front of what looked to be an old gravestone and gently lifted the bird out the pocket.
The bird opened its eyes sleepily. It was hard to see in the dark, with only a quarter moon to light up his surroundings.
Gently, he placed the bird down on the ground, smiling softly at it, "Here you are." He said quietly.
The starling flared open its wings to perch on top of the gravestone. It gave him a long look, that could be perceived as gratefulness.
Alex's smile grew a little, "You're welcome, friend."
"Hello?" A strangled voice came from the darkness some feet away. One full of fear. "Who is it?" The male voice demanded desperately— in near complete darkness, it was needless to say that the voice came as an unwanted startle.
His head snapped to the voice, slowly standing from where he sat, "I-I'm Alex," He said clearly, cursing the slight stutter, "Who are you?"
"Alex..?" He answered nervously, a little softer, "It's me, John?" Clearly he was mistaking this Alex for another.
"I'm sorry, I don't know a John. Does the Alex you know have a… a phone number? I can call them if you want." He took a step closer to John.
It was hard to see the man, he could really only see his skin. Everything else was a dark fuzz. There was a bewildered pause from him, "What?"
"A phone number. Does he have a phone number?" He asked again, "Do you even know where you are?" He took another step closer.
He had a weird accent too, something close to a southern accent, but not quite. "No," he admitted, audibly shuffling away.
"That's okay, um, here," Alex pulled out his phone and turned on the torch, shining it on himself so John could see him properly and smiled, "Let's start from the beginning. I'm Alex, and you're in (Insert city name here)"
"What," he exhaled in almost fear, "You've– what– kind of fire is that—?"
XD this is gonna be fun )
(Lmao XDD)
"Fire? It's uh… well, it's kinda hard to explain, it's not gonna burn you like real fire, though." Alex chuckled.
He pointed at it, stammering in amazement.
Alex couldn't help smiling, "Do you not know what a phone is?"
"Can— can I hold it? That, it's called a fone?" He laughed with amazement, and tried to stand up. From the light that reflected off Alex's face, he could kind of see John stumble and fall right back down.
Alex’s smile grew and he walked towards John, sitting down in front of him, holding out the phone, “Yes you can hold it, here.”
He turned the flashlight directly into his face, and flinched when the brightness caught him by surprise. The stranger was wearing old, old clothes, like he was one of those reenactors that worked at the historic park. It was hard to tell if he had freckles or dirt on his face, and his curly hair looked like it hadn't been cleaned in centuries. (Pun intended)
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