Spent some time writing a small entry for a local competition. Thought it may be worth or of interest to share. Enjoy.
There’s some inherit limitation to my age that seems like the entire world is pushed down on restricting what I can achieve. It’s as if I’m permanently locked away until the numbers on my birth certificate are acceptable to the people that matter. My failure to stay in the hotel near Annabel seemed to be the final straw in my building frustration. Am I too young, have I grown up too fast? Every single thing, that is of value to me right now, is plainly and simply out of reach.
“I could just ask my parents, we do have a spare room.”
“Anna, your Mom and Dad have already expressed a really big objection to the fact that we are going out. The fact that I am traveling to visit you will be yet another thing I’m sure will spark them off. Then your asking for me to stay, with you… Surely you can imagine every single thing that your dad will say.”
“It’s so frustrating. They don’t want us to be going out, because of what, our age? Does our age indicate our maturity?”
“Maybe I’m too young to be in love with you.” She paused for a moment and looked to the ground. Her hand pushed her hair behind her ear, whilst a smile came upon her face. There was nothing untoward about that, but I always adored when she did such a thing.
“You know how I feel when you use that word.” She replied.
“It makes you smile. As long as it continues to do just that, I will continue to use that word.”
“And that’s how I know you’re old enough.”
“Not that word, it’s how you choose, to use it.”
“If only the world thought like you. If only, I wasn’t seventeen.”
– Michael Topschij.