W for Window

He is watching the rain trickle down the window in his room. It is dark and misty outside. The window is dewy on the inside. He stretches out his finger and touch the surface. Slowly he draws a face on the dew. A sad face. He sighs and looks up at the poster on the wall. Thierry Henry. The best. The one and only. 

It doesn't hurt so much today. The new medicine helps. He closes his eyes and picture himself running on the football field. Dribbling, tackling, hearing the cheers of the fans, focusing and then shooting: Goal! He smiles with his eyes closed. 

The door opens and dad comes in. He looks exciting, waiving with an envelope. He sits down on the edge of the bed and reads the letter to him. He feels the tight hug of his dad and hear his voice whispering in his ear: You got it son. The foundation granted you your wish. You are going to Wembley! A VIP dream day. You will meet the whole team. Arsenal.

His eyes wander off to the window again. He is trying to prevent the tears from running. He stretch out his finger and touch the sad face, slowly making the sad mouth into a smiling one. He is going to Wembley.

Wembley - the home of Arsenal football club. Pic from: e-architect.co.uk

She is sitting at the kitchen table watching her grand-kids run around in the sun on the green grass out there. Through the open window she can hear them giggle as they chase each other. A honey bee is trapped inside, and she gives it a gentle push out the window opening and watches it fly off and land on her rose bushes. Her hands tremble again as she looks down at the ticket. A gift from her son. 

She had always said she wanted to go back, and here it was. The opportunity. She takes off her glasses and presses the palms of her hands on her eyes - to stop the flow of tears pouring down her wrinkled chins. Her birth city. Her beloved Warzaw which was bombed to ruins. Totally destroyed. Her home gone. Her town that was occupied and where the enemy had put up that awful camp. The camp which stole her loved ones. Killed them. Only she survived. But just like her dear phoenix city she rose from the ruins. 

She had walked away and never looked back. But then the dream. The dream about seeing it again. Night after night, and at daytime too. Sitting by the kitchen window, looking outside and seeing only her: Warzawa. Her city. Her home. She wanted to go back didn't she?

Slowly she gets up and with the ticket in her hand she walks out in the garden. She sits down at the bench by the roses, and the bright sun feels warm on her face. The kids' laughter fade away. She smiles and closes her eyes. 

Facts: Warzaw, Poland was almost completely destroyed after the World War II. The city dates back to the 12th century, but the whole city was reconstructed after the war. You can find more info here. 

Dreams....  -  are they always where we expect them to be? A different take on my theme today, dear reader. I hope you came along and that you found my www: Window-Wembley-Warzaw enjoyable or interesting? What else is there to say but: Chase your dream and live today.

So, another AtoZ week is coming to an end, dear reader. This week we started off in Rosendal and then headed off to Sydney, Table Mountain (with a detour for those Indian mangoes), majestic Udaipur and then lovely Venice. On Monday we are traveling off again - the last 3 dream destinations are coming up. And this should be interesting, because X for x.....?

1-30 April I participate in the A to Z blogger challenge, and this post is written as a part of that challenge. Check out some amazing participating blogs here. My theme for the challenge is Dream Destinations. I hope you had fun coming along? Tomorrow Sunday we have a challenge-free day, but please stay tuned for a new destination on Monday. 

Go to a-to-zchallenge.com