A SHORT SPANISH STORY

writing prompt: you are moving to spain to start your life over

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Frantically I shoved articles of clothing into my suitcase. In the heat of the moment I didn't care what I was grabbing, just that I was grabbing anything at all. There was no way I could stay here any longer, not after the recent events that had just transpired in my life. My job was monotonous and relentlessly unpleasant. I had moved halfway across the country for this position, away from my friends and family and it had turned out to be the hugest of mistakes.

But hey, I'm young. I'll recover.

You might think at this point that I'm mindlessly packing my belongings to move back home with my family, but I assure you that's not the case. Oh no, you see, I can't go back there. I can't let them know I've failed. There's no coming back from that. So I'm leaving the country. I Johnny Paycheck'ed my job and now I'm free.

My plane leaves in a few hours; heading to Spain. I have no idea what I'm going to do there or where I'm going to live, but hey, right now, I couldn't really care less. I just want out. There's something incredibly liberating about this moment. The power at the end of my fingertips couldn't be more tangible. My heart is fluttering in my chest and I can't throw things in my luggage fast enough.

There is a song playing from my cell phone. Someone is beckoning me, but I'm ignoring it. I don't have the time or the patience to deal with whatever catastrophe is on the other end. Besides, feverishly packing my few important items is way more entertaining at the moment. I only have three hours before I'm seated on a plane next to a window awaiting a fresh start in a new country where I know absolutely no one and I don't even speak the same language.

Why did I pick Spain? Funny you should ask that. I threw a dart at a wall and that's where it landed, a very scientific process, right? Right. There's just something about living overseas that has haunted me my whole life. When I was little I dreamed about moving to Germany, never really believing that one day that could be a reality.

Well, after working an ultimately thankless job with no recognition, now is the time to make my move. I have nothing here tying me down; I have no obstacles to keep me stateside. I tell you, I've never felt more alive than I do in this moment right now.

My suitcase is becoming increasingly full and I have to sit on it in order to work the zipper. If it's over the 50 pound weight limit I don't care. One suitcase and two check bags later, I'm on my way out the door. Living in the city means I don't even have a car to worry about and forget the rent on my overpriced apartment. As far as I'm concerned, I'm never coming back.

Eleven hours later I'm standing in the middle of the Madrid airport. I have to stop and catch my breath. What am I doing? Is this really happening? I feel like Dave after Dentist. Is this real life? I pinch my arm. Yep, I'm in Spain. The air is warm, the people are beautiful and there is color everywhere.

Suddenly I feel like crying and I'm not exactly sure why. It's probably a combination of the fact that I'm very dramatically running away from everything I've ever known and the gypsy part of me that is beyond excited for a new life adventure. Yes, starting over is exactly what I needed. I take a deep breath, shove my tears back down my throat and step outside into the Spanish air.

New life, here I come.