Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt taken from the real part of my story, Daryl talks about being home at once.
“…When I first moved in with my new family, I became Daryl H. but the moment I hear my mother’s words, is the exact moment I become Daryl Heart and a tremendous weight is lifted off of my shoulders. I feel confident enough to make new friends and after a wonderful first summer, with the new school year in full swing, I complete my integration not only with my family but also in the community.
As for that fragrance I couldn’t describe when I had visited my family’s house on the I met with them, the pleasant aroma that intrigued me so much at the time, was the one of comfort. My senses were trying to speak to me and tell me I was home at once. So many emotions in such a short time for such a small heart. My life had been so complicated, the events and emotions so overwhelming that the simplicity of the next few years to come would be a blessing.
One last break and when return, the conclusion to tonights’s story.”
Surprising how something you get to see every day can, given the right circumstances, reveal itself to you in a whole different light, with a whole different meaning. While I was going through these last two segments, I knew, of course, there was a light coming at the end of that dark tunnel I entered at some point in my childhood and as I spoke, I kept staring out one of the windows of my studio which offers a view of the city, a view made breathtaking by the sun slowly climbing above the high rise buildings, strangely following the rhythm of my story as I was tackling it’s final chapters. I have seen the sun rise through that window a few thousand times over the years I sat in that chair but it is today, of all days, that it decided to finally reveal its true beauty. A calming scene that sets the mood to help me finish my show in the right state of mind and better prepare me for the rest of this day which already has a different feel to it compared to my usual routine.
Through another window, the one that gives me a view inside of the station, I can now see that my good friends Sean and Chris from the morning show have joined the crowd of onlookers as have some of the suits who had rushed to Jackson’s office at his request in order to deal with what they saw as the crisis I had caused. They have different look than the one they had on their faces when they first got here. I’m thinking that during that little emergency meeting of theirs, they got a deeper look at the numbers Susan gave Jackson earlier and now, like the small minded accountants they are, they feel happy. One of them confirms it by giving me a thumbs up, accompanied of course by the phoniest of smiles. He doesn’t know, nor does he care, what it took to get those numbers, so long as they’re good. Where’s that good old gag reflex when you need it.
Also confirmed is how at peace I now feel with my situation when my phone vibrates and I calmly, almost instinctively, reach for it to see who is texting me instead of jumping with the look of someone in desperate need of a defibrillator.
It’s Annie. She is still there. Her face is the perfect background image for how I feel right now. And her words, her words are the light at the end of this dark tunnel, the one I entered a few weeks ago.
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This project is entirely written on an iPad.
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