Zippo
written by: Elias King
I found an old Zippo lighter on the side of the road. I flicked it on, staring at the little flame that flickered in the wind. The warmth from the lighter tickles my fingers as the autumn chill settles in the rest of my bones. I think about what it used to be like running around the neighborhood as kids. We all used to be so close, and now it feels like we are miles apart. Soon we will be. I will be halfway across the world, everyone else will be in different schools across the state, possibly even the country. Maybe I won’t be the only one to run from here. The sun is starting to set; the flame from the Zippo is still flickering. I’m surprised it hasn’t gone out yet. I blow it out and put it back where I found it, for it is not mine to take. The world will continue to turn, it is not ours to stop. Not ours to take and turn back time. I turn around and head back home as the autumn breeze continues to blow, and the first drizzle of rain starts to fall.
