Flash Fiction Story 2: The Big Move:
Everything changed when my parents told me that we’d be moving to the city. I didn’t understand why this was happening. Our relatives lived in the country. Our friends lived in the country. Even Bianca, the mousy girl I had a crush on, lived in the country. That is where our lives were and had always been. Leaving was the last thing I wanted.
“It will mean a better life for us,” my mother said. She promised that we’d have access to better things and better lives to go with them. She spoke of tastier food and lots more of it. Admittedly, our diet, though fairly plentiful, was quite boring. Mostly, we ate the same grain-heavy diet throughout the year with the occasional special treat. I was always especially excited when my dad brought home the rare sugary delight. Candied apples in the fall were always my favorite. My mother assured me that in the city there’d be many more special treats to eat. That sounded nice, but not nice enough to make me comfortable with abandoning our home.
My father didn’t say much on the issue. “Listen to your mother,” he’d say. “She knows what’s best for the family.” That was always his way. Whatever my mother wanted, she got, and whatever she said was law. Honestly, I don’t think he really wanted to leave the countryside. Dad had always enjoyed the simpler things in life. A quiet stroll on a sunny afternoon was enough to make his entire day. In the winters, which were often quite harsh where we lived, a long nap near the furnace in the evening was the only thing he needed to be happy. I didn’t know much about the city back then, but I didn’t believe that he’d find living there particularly enjoyable.
When the day finally came to leave the countryside, many of our friends and family came to see us off. Such meetings weren’t very common among our community, but the few we had were always quite memorable. I cried at the thought of leaving. Part of me hoped that it was all a bad dream. That my parents would suddenly change their minds and decide that we wouldn’t be moving to the city after all. That was the last time I saw Bianca. I wanted to tell her about my feelings, but I didn’t see the point. All that would have done is make things more depressing. Either she would have rejected my feelings, and then I would have struggled with the turmoil of being rejected. Or worse, she would have reciprocated my feelings, and then I would have been devastated by the knowledge that true love had been stolen from me by my parents. No good would have come from either scenario.
My family never had much in the way of wealth. When it came to moving, this made things much easier. My parents told me that I could only bring what I could carry, but I didn’t have much to begin with, so deciding what I’d take to the city wasn’t particularly difficult. There was the scarf, made of a piece of burlap, that Bianca had given me several months earlier, and the hat that I had made for myself out of straw. There wasn’t anything else I really wanted. My parents said that we’d be able to find new toys and furniture in the city for less than what it would require for us to transport our things there. So, we gave all of it away to our friends and family. It was one of my dad’s brothers, Uncle Timothy, who ultimately moved into our place. Dad said it was easier to let a family member take it than to try to find someone from outside the family. I liked this idea. Part of me believed that it meant we might be able to come back if we didn’t like living in the city.
The trip to our new home took much longer than I had expected. Honestly, I think it was the longest trip that I had ever taken up to that point. We had everything we needed in our countryside community, and my parents had never been big fans of traveling. We caught a train that took us right into the city, but it was still a journey of several hours. It felt like a lifetime to me though.
When we finally reached our new home, I was astounded by what I saw. I had never seen a building so tall before. Instead of wood, it was made of bricks. That meant no more rattling during spring storms or deathly cold drafts in the winter. We could be warm all year round. My parents had been right about the food as well. It wasn’t as fresh, but there was so much more variety. No longer did our meals consist mostly of grain. There were cheeses, meats, and fruits that I had never even seen before; and I couldn’t believe how readily available sugar was. It was a paradise compared to the countryside.
While I didn’t like it at first, my parents had been right about moving to the city. Just about everything was better compared to the countryside. Our home was nicer, warmer, and safer. There were way more things for us to do and more friends my age to do them with. I’m glad we decided to move here. The only thing worse about the city is the cats. On the farm where we lived, there had only been one old cat that was too lazy to do much of anything. In the city, there are lots of cats. Sometimes it feels like there might be a cat for every family. Every moment I spend outside our house is stressful. Even when I’m still inside our building. That said, I still like this place better than the countryside. I guess that means I’m a city mouse now.
