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One Day
Fresh Start
I picked up the first cardboard box and slammed my car’s trunk shut behind me before making my way up the steps to my new home. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, grinning when I looked around. This place was everything I imagined, even more than the first time I viewed it 7 months ago. My new home, a fresh start.
Before moving to Huntington, I had my own apartment, but it held to many bad memories. I had a reason for a fresh start now; I was finally following my own dreams and not trying to please everyone else. Practically my whole life had been spent trying to please my family, but I grew a backbone and decided enough was enough.
I threw away my thoughts and returned to unpacking, letting my dog George out of the car too. He barked happily and licked my hand before barging through the front door of our new home. I shook my head, smiling. When I moved from New York, I was adamant that George would be coming with me.
My mother didn’t mind, she wasn’t really a pet person anyway, in fact she was delighted when I told her I would be taking him to California with me. I had wanted dog ever since I was young and then one birthday my dad presented me with a large box, a box that would contain my best friend for the next 16 years. Our first dog was called Chewy, and he was also a chocolate lab, he was practically my best friend. I remember coming home from university one day to not finding him at the door, waiting for me. The panic filled my bones when I discovered him laying on the cold kitchen floor, panting heavily.
We all knew Chewy was ill in his later years; he’d been diagnosed with a sort of stomach cancer that was untreatable due to his existing problems and old age. After all, he was an old man and he’d given as much fight as possible, but he had grown tired of fighting.
I couldn’t bring myself to take him to the vets, so I left the horrible task to my dad, who I remember also being very emotional.
It was around 25 when I decided to get another dog, that doing being George. I had gone to the exact same breeder who had given us Chewy. I remember Lisa being delighted when I showed back up with my dad, and it didn’t take her long to show off her dog’s newest litter. I remember her leading us back to the same bit of the house to the same doggy pen, full of 10 little puppies running around their mom.
It took me literally around 2 minutes to pick George, he reminded me of Chewy in all sorts of ways, and not just his looks.
I was completely free of boxes by the time I finished reminiscing, so I decided to take a little stroll. It was late July, and the weather here was beautiful, even if a little too hot for me. I didn’t even care that my pasty legs were on show in my short shorts, when normally I would be all for hiding them away. There was nothing wrong with my legs in all honesty, they were quite thin, but I did feel self conscious of the slight cellulite.
No one stopped to stare at my imperfections like I’d expected, it could even be said that I blended in.
My friends had given me this picture in my mind of California, and that everyone would be tall, tan and perfect. Okay, so maybe there was some who fit the stereotype, but mostly everyone was normal.
I decided to stop down by the beach, the view made me smile, the waves hitting against the golden sands.
It was a little after 5pm when I got home, the house looking just as perfect as when I left. I spotted George having a quiet snooze on the floor, he looked content too. My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten much all day.
I made my way into the kitchen and opened the fridge door, completely empty. Shit I thought. I must’ve forgotten to go shopping in all the excitement of today, oh well looks like I’ll have to go pick something quick up now.
I drove past various fast food signs but quickly decided against eating that kind of food this late at night, it didn’t take me long to arrive at the nearest Walmart. People shot me weird looks as zoomed through the aisles; I hated food shopping, so I always tried to avoid spending more than 20 minutes doing it.
My sweet tooth tingled as I strolled past the confectionary aisle, I knew I shouldn’t, but I’d been eating so well recently. Why the hell not? I practically live in the gym anyway I smiled and headed towards the colourful aisle.
I knew what I was looking for straight away; it’s my favourite sort of chocolate bar. I went to pick the last bar of Hershey’s Cookies N Cream up, but someone beat me too it. A tattooed arm swooped in front me causing me to look up. Oh dear lord…
The guy stood in front of me, dawning a sheepish grin was fucking beautiful. He stood about 5’7, slightly bulky in stature, and colourful tattoos adorning his arms. I could feel the heat rush to my face, quickly apologizing for trying to snatch the chocolate.
“Sorry,” he laughed. “How rude of me, here, you have this.”
He handed me the bar, me still standing there gobsmacked, “Umm thanks.”
He shot me a slight smile before strolling past, shopping basket lazily placed on his arm. I stood there for a few moments before deciding that I should probably go home.
This place is starting to get better already.
Before moving to Huntington, I had my own apartment, but it held to many bad memories. I had a reason for a fresh start now; I was finally following my own dreams and not trying to please everyone else. Practically my whole life had been spent trying to please my family, but I grew a backbone and decided enough was enough.
I threw away my thoughts and returned to unpacking, letting my dog George out of the car too. He barked happily and licked my hand before barging through the front door of our new home. I shook my head, smiling. When I moved from New York, I was adamant that George would be coming with me.
My mother didn’t mind, she wasn’t really a pet person anyway, in fact she was delighted when I told her I would be taking him to California with me. I had wanted dog ever since I was young and then one birthday my dad presented me with a large box, a box that would contain my best friend for the next 16 years. Our first dog was called Chewy, and he was also a chocolate lab, he was practically my best friend. I remember coming home from university one day to not finding him at the door, waiting for me. The panic filled my bones when I discovered him laying on the cold kitchen floor, panting heavily.
We all knew Chewy was ill in his later years; he’d been diagnosed with a sort of stomach cancer that was untreatable due to his existing problems and old age. After all, he was an old man and he’d given as much fight as possible, but he had grown tired of fighting.
I couldn’t bring myself to take him to the vets, so I left the horrible task to my dad, who I remember also being very emotional.
It was around 25 when I decided to get another dog, that doing being George. I had gone to the exact same breeder who had given us Chewy. I remember Lisa being delighted when I showed back up with my dad, and it didn’t take her long to show off her dog’s newest litter. I remember her leading us back to the same bit of the house to the same doggy pen, full of 10 little puppies running around their mom.
It took me literally around 2 minutes to pick George, he reminded me of Chewy in all sorts of ways, and not just his looks.
I was completely free of boxes by the time I finished reminiscing, so I decided to take a little stroll. It was late July, and the weather here was beautiful, even if a little too hot for me. I didn’t even care that my pasty legs were on show in my short shorts, when normally I would be all for hiding them away. There was nothing wrong with my legs in all honesty, they were quite thin, but I did feel self conscious of the slight cellulite.
No one stopped to stare at my imperfections like I’d expected, it could even be said that I blended in.
My friends had given me this picture in my mind of California, and that everyone would be tall, tan and perfect. Okay, so maybe there was some who fit the stereotype, but mostly everyone was normal.
I decided to stop down by the beach, the view made me smile, the waves hitting against the golden sands.
It was a little after 5pm when I got home, the house looking just as perfect as when I left. I spotted George having a quiet snooze on the floor, he looked content too. My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten much all day.
I made my way into the kitchen and opened the fridge door, completely empty. Shit I thought. I must’ve forgotten to go shopping in all the excitement of today, oh well looks like I’ll have to go pick something quick up now.
I drove past various fast food signs but quickly decided against eating that kind of food this late at night, it didn’t take me long to arrive at the nearest Walmart. People shot me weird looks as zoomed through the aisles; I hated food shopping, so I always tried to avoid spending more than 20 minutes doing it.
My sweet tooth tingled as I strolled past the confectionary aisle, I knew I shouldn’t, but I’d been eating so well recently. Why the hell not? I practically live in the gym anyway I smiled and headed towards the colourful aisle.
I knew what I was looking for straight away; it’s my favourite sort of chocolate bar. I went to pick the last bar of Hershey’s Cookies N Cream up, but someone beat me too it. A tattooed arm swooped in front me causing me to look up. Oh dear lord…
The guy stood in front of me, dawning a sheepish grin was fucking beautiful. He stood about 5’7, slightly bulky in stature, and colourful tattoos adorning his arms. I could feel the heat rush to my face, quickly apologizing for trying to snatch the chocolate.
“Sorry,” he laughed. “How rude of me, here, you have this.”
He handed me the bar, me still standing there gobsmacked, “Umm thanks.”
He shot me a slight smile before strolling past, shopping basket lazily placed on his arm. I stood there for a few moments before deciding that I should probably go home.
This place is starting to get better already.
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