Sparkles

A/N: This is a late post for the third day of my mini writing prompts, but I hope it will be worth it! I spent hours trying to think of a short story. This is what I think Peter Pan would have been if he let himself grow up in the streets of a busy city instead of a quiet town. Hope you like it! 

Peter stood looking at the several buildings whose lights indicated the presence of thousands of people who were too busy to observe the little things, such as how there were millions of lights that made up the city in hues of blue, red, and white. They failed to notice how the stars had disappeared from the sky because people no longer paid attention to them. Everyone focused on the screens of their phones and tablets as they communicated with people who were from different parts of the country. He found it ironic that people would rather wait hours for an instant message to come in while families and friends were nothing more than a few hundred meters away from their bedroom door.

Peter brought out his backpack and pulled out a paper bag, wrinkled from it being stuffed inside the bag for the whole afternoon. He had hoped that not a single of the contents spilled on his bag. He dipped his head towards the bag, and sighed in relief when he realized that the scent of the contents had not lingered, indicating that all was well for now.

Now when did I start getting giddy about things, he wondered.

He brought out a container filled halfway with what looked to be glitter. However, Peter knew to himself that this wasn’t any ordinary glitter. There were elements embedded in it that not even science could comprehend. This was beyond the reality that millions had accepted as part of their daily lives. He began sprinkling some of this glitter on his hands and watched as they slowly lit up like sparklers on New Year’s Eve. Seconds passed before they floated on air and its colors changed from yellow, to red, and finally to a white. They swirled around Peter, whose eyes had lit up as they danced around him. He waved his hand and the glitter revolved around his hands and stilled, as if waiting for an order from him. He murmured a silent chant to himself, and sent the glitters on its way to the destination.

Now that the task was done, he took out another item from the paper bag: a white cup with a lid. Most people would perceive it as part of the urban ritual of taking out coffee in the afternoon, but he knew for a fact that today was special of all days, and he wanted to reward himself for it. He took out the lid and inhaled. The scent of chocolate wafted in the air for a moment and he felt his mouth water at the thought of taking a first sip. He forced himself to wait until the hot chocolate cooled down to a point where it was still hot but it would not burn his tongue, something that he frequently forgot whenever he bought hot drinks from nearby shops.

He closed his eyes, feeling a gentle wind from the north. For a moment, he could almost see himself in the skies as he flew with her. He could picture every detail on her face.

Her eyes which lit up when she saw him, and had sparkled when they drank in the evening skies in the countryside.

The chestnut hair which she always left uncombed because it was the only way she could rebel against the truth.

The blue jacket with linings on the sleeves, which she had never forgotten to bring when she would see him.

How long had it been since he last saw her? What was she doing now? Were her parents still alive? Was she even still living in the two floored apartment with a balcony that was barely enough space for him to fit through when he snuck in flowers for her?

He could visit her if he could, but he did not think that he could forgive her for the choice she made. So every year, he resorted to sending her these glitters which would light up for her as a reminder of what they had done together when they could still ignore the passing times.

He could see her face as he closed his eyes. He knew he still loved her, and that was enough for now until he took the next step: Seeing her again.

He took a sip of the hot chocolate and smiled at the bittersweet taste.

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