come with me to the middle of nowhere
"Ding-ding." This little bell marks each visitor. "Ding-ding." "I love this sound, though I can't explain why – it's like a small magic in a simple cafe," I muse, my eyes wandering around the hall in search of a familiar silhouette. "She's late," the thought flashes, and again: "Ding-ding."
May appears in the doorway – my childhood friend, whom life never managed to separate from me. Her beige coat and black scarf give her some new, unfamiliar femininity. While she's folding her umbrella, I stand up and wave, signaling my presence. She floats through the hall towards me – smiling, fixing loose strands of her hair.
– What happened? Why such an urgent meeting? – curiosity mingles with concern in her voice.
– I don't even know where to start... Do you remember our travels? – the words come with difficulty.
– Of course I do! How could one forget? We have so many photos together, – confusion rings in her voice.
– I don't remember any of it... – I take a sip of cappuccino, trying to cope with the bitterness of confession. – I look at the photos as if they're someone else's... The Eiffel Tower, Trevi Fountain, Niagara Falls – everything's in a haze, as if someone erased these memories, leaving only blurred spots.
– Maybe you hit your head? Memory doesn't just disappear, – anxiety grows in her voice.
– Doctors are at a loss. They say I'm healthy as a horse, – I reply, absent-mindedly rotating the cup in my hands.
– Tough case... – May ponders, then brightens up. – You know what? Come with me.
– Where? – I ask, already getting into her car.
– You'll see. Just trust me, – she smiles, and I silently nod.
The city falls behind as we drive along a road that's not on any maps. After a couple of hours, an endless field opens before us. Around us – not a soul, only an incredible sunset spills across the sky, taking our breath away with its simplicity and grandeur.
May turns to me, sunset reflections dancing in her eyes: – Well, how is it?
– Incredible... Thank you. I never thought the most beautiful things could be so simple.
We talk about everything and nothing until the sun sinks below the horizon. On the way back, I open Instagram and methodically delete all the "postcard" photos. I leave just one – a blurry sunset photo the color of ripe grapes. The caption is short: "The best journey of my life."
