Other Side

One year later.
August, 2012.

I stood in the phone booth, staring at the payphone. I had been there for much longer than I’d like to have admitted to anyone, without so much as even touching the phone. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to make the phone call, or if it would even matter. I wasn’t even sure if it would make any kind of difference.

But what the hell, I figured.

I slipped a couple coins into the slot and pulled the phone from its cradle, pinning it between my shoulder and ear as I punched in a number. With each annoying ring a little bit of hope evaporated from my body.

“Hey,” my body jolted a little from shock upon hearing his voice. “This is Beau. Sorry I can’t take your call right now, but if you leave your name and number I’ll try to give you a call back as soon as I can.”

I closed my eyes and let out a sigh, leaning against the glass. “Hey, Beau. It’s me, Summer… again. I was just calling to say hi. I’m, uh, I’m actually out of country – not sure how long it’ll be before I come home, if ever. I’m fine, don’t worry… I just – I just miss you, all the time.”

I paused then, glancing across the bustling street for a moment. “But hey, have a great hockey season.”

I hung the phone back up and slung my purse back across my shoulder as I stepped out, giving an older woman a tight lipped smile as she passed by.

The sun was beating down mercilessly upon the city, creating an almost-halo like effect around some of the tallest buildings. The people were bustling about giving the air a comforting vibe with the sound of a Spanish guitar somewhere off in the distance.

It was then that I realize Madrid could truly be a new start. This wasn’t the beginning of a new chapter of my life, but it was the beginning of a new book entirely. I was a whole new Summer after writing The End to my American book, and now I was going to begin my life abroad. I would be doing what I loved, day in and day out taking photos of this beautiful city before me.

With a wide smile, I pulled my sunglasses from my purse and slipped them onto my face. I navigated through the city back to my apartment with a rejuvenated urgency to unpack the rest of my belongings. I had only been here a few weeks but next to nothing I’d brought over had been unpacked and set up. My apartment was still filled with cardboard boxes and instead of brewing my own morning coffee I’d been simply grabbing one at a local café on my way to work.

Things had changed now, though. Five hours later found me returning back up from taking the folded, empty boxes down to the complex trash bin, humming a tune my neighbor had been playing on their stereo. I grabbed my laptop and headphones and made my way onto the balcony where I sat cross-legged in a chair, laptop on a table, and started up the new Spanish Language program my boss had installed on my computer before I’d left.

This was a new beginning.