Five Hundred Miles Away

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2 min readMar 4, 2021

Bullets of rain pierce through the air around my rickety old car. The car is deep sea blue with star shapes carved out of the dark, rusting iron that made up the tire rims. My younger sister carved them out last year. It’s engine splatters and burps at times, but I keep on driving. Pellets of stone make a cracking sound as they shuffle about the road.

The car maneuvers through a lonely, damp, coal black road winding down a clearing between two vast, green fields. A cow grazing upon the wet blades of grass moos aimlessly as it flecks about it’s tail. Petrichor in the air mixes with the faint smell of dung and cut-grass. A blend of warm orange, unreal-pink and freshwater blue appear around the sun, like the masterpiece of a talented artist. I can do nothing but stare rudely at the surroundings. I am jerked up suddenly by a low pothole under the car. An old looking wooden shack, which seems like it can break down at any moment now, has a door creaking open slightly and windows covered with grime to an extent that the insides are impossible to see. I focus back at the situation at hand.

Home seems so close, yet so far. My thoughts dwell upon my parents and siblings. They are probably patiently waiting for my arrival. I feel guilty for not meeting back with them any earlier. Tears make their way down my blushing cheeks as I remember their faces. Will they be disappointed at me? Will they be proud? Those cows and goats on the fields have no such worries or thoughts. They have no idea of the emotions between family members. Oh, how I envy them! I think of how long it has been. Have my siblings already come up with sarcastic inside jokes to make me feel excluded? Have they made up a secret language to keep me out of their thoughts and speech?

I dread what lies ahead. I look out to see the wonders only books have said. No one for miles but myself. In such solitude, one learns a lot about their own nature. The car continues rocking about down the path towards the sun, touching that undeterminable line at the edge of the world.

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These are practice essays from a few months before my IGCSEs. I swear I’m better now