A Moment on the Curb
Writing by Nathan Haskins (‘21)

Charlie didn’t intend to be walking home as the sun was setting, but it’s hard to deny a five-player game of Monopoly. His friends begged him to stay even after he had already packed up his sleeping bag and backpack. He didn’t regret staying, especially after getting second place, but he wasn’t thrilled to be getting home after dinner.

His backpack rattled as he put one foot in front of the other. His sleeping bag, barely contained in the thin bag it came with, scraped against the sidewalk. The sun had begun its descent past the horizon, leaving behind a soft peach sky and a cool breeze that brushed against Charlie’s hoodie. If it weren’t for the harsh light of the lampposts guiding him home, he might’ve drifted off to sleep standing up. 

Of course, that’s what you get after staying up for almost forty hours straight at a hectic sleepover with intense board game sessions, horror movies at midnight, and endless amounts of laughter. 

Charlie stopped, set down his sleeping bag and backpack, and sat on the curb. He stretched his legs out into the empty road and took a deep breath. For a moment, he listened intently to his surroundings. The soft hum of the lamppost next to him, the rustling of dried leaves as lizards scurried through bushes behind him, the light trickle of water in a storm drain nearby, and most of all, the sound of silence.

Last night was fun, no doubt about it, but Charlie would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy this moment. He rested his chin on his knees and stared at the rolling hills in his neighborhood and the numerous houses that coated them. Charlie knew he had to make it home in the next few minutes before his mom would call, but he also knew that he needed this. 

Even if it was just for a moment.