Blue Pickup - by Niki Lopez
This was it.
My stomach fluttered like the birth of a thousand seahorses. Is this really it? My mind went through my small library of doubts, hates, longing, tears, and a few old photographs that I had preserved. My palms started to feel warm and damp. The airport hummed with hundreds of voices. Everyone seems to move past me as I stood still. Time stood still. As I peered out the terminal window, I saw a blue pickup truck drive by. What if that’s him? My mind immediately ran through a possible story as I chuckled to myself for thinking I was a bewitched clairvoyant. Silly me. As my mind drifted back to the current anxiousness and wonder, I heard him. Niki, I turned around. Yes. We stood still. Or was it time? I don’t know but it was surreal. I smiled as I looked back at eyes like mine. I chuckled to myself that he didn’t look the pictures I held dear to my heart through the many storms of my life thus far. No big afro. The few pictures I had of him reflected the 70’s era in time. One where he was with mom, big grin, shiny shoes and a disco ball. Yet, here he was. This was it. He hugged me and chuckled ‘I would notice that fucked up hairline from a mile away. That’s my hairline.’ We laughed, smiled, took another glimpse and walked out of the terminal. He throws my bag to the back of his old blue pickup truck and we drove away. My heart swelled with love and amazement as we drove off into the sunny Atlanta skyline. After all these years, I’ve found him.
This is it.
©2017 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
A short story I wrote September 17, 2017, while working on a few exercises and revisiting my love of writing. Dedicated to my dad, Ronnie Lopez. I have a few pieces written and more in the works, that I will share at a later time.
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