Things Stay/Change

A nervous stillness. The uneasy jittering of sitting still. Nothing is happening but you need something, anything to happen, to do, to occur.

The room sat just as it was left all those years ago. The faint breeze brought the familiar aroma of autumn in from the outside; a strange sour tinge now permeated the smell, or perhaps it was only a disjoint between the memories and the space now standing before him.
He stepped over the threshold into the room, creaking hardwood warped, dust jostling from the tired joints and cracks. Shelves, stuffed full of old leather bound tomes intermixed with the glossy dull spines of paper backs shoved in and around where they would fit, lined three walls of the musty study, a nook cut out under the window with the faded upholstery seat, the tatters where the cat used to pick at still were etched into it's flowery patterned fabric.
A solid beam of light fell in from the slightly ajar window, pouring in through the tatters of the wispy curtains, illuminating the ambient flow of dense dust recently disturbed by the visitor. Stepping slowly forward, the person walked to the center of the room, standing solemnly under the fan protruding from the ceiling. Casting his gaze around the room, it brought back the feelings of old summers where he would read through novels and novels tucked away in the corner as the baking sun lingered outside with the loud children running around aimlessly, enraptured by the hasty chaotic energy of being 11 years old and out of school.
Peering out through the warped panes, he observed the overgrown yard; scant brown and yellow leaves clung desperately to the almost barren branches of the big oak, the grass was frail and spotted with decaying leaves. A few wooden posts demarkated where a fence had once been, now overgrown with climbing ivies.
A yellowed white folding chair stuck up slightly above the yard, its form a distant familiar memory. The fall was always a pleasant time; even now the smell recalled the afternoons spent wandering the cul-de-sacs, crunching leaves beneath their feet as they pointed out carved pumpkins of varying degrees of spooky and silly on their way to the Dunkin donuts after school, the cool sun sitting softly behind the flowing clouds, cold dry air whirling around and breezing past the flannels and northface jackets bunched loosely over graphic tees.
Eye moving up to look at the sprawling multicolored woodland stretching out from the uneven delineation of shrubbery encroaching on the abandoned backyards, he slid down to sit in the nook. Instinctively, he brought his legs up and sat sideways, back against the bookshelves and feet tucked against the other wall, perfectly still.
"Arthur," a voice cracked through the stillness, a figure leaning against the pealing paint of the doorway.
The man opened his eye and turned to look up at the person with a faint smile.
"Did you find what you needed?" the voice continued, as the speaker stepped into the room, her idle fingers strumming against the irregular spines as she made her way around.
"uhh... no... I got distracted," Arthur returned, spinning his boots around to rest on the floor.
"Figured," she responded calmly, pulling out the rolly-chair from the large wooden desk.
An old computer monitor sat above a dust-caked keyboard, the rough surface of the desk was pock-marked with pencil jabs and peeling paint subsequently filled in with quick dashes of colored pencils. Strewn around were varying plastic figures and tiny rocks and crystals stacked neatly against the back wall.
Twisting the chair to point at Arthur, she slid down into the stiff leather and crossed her legs, leaning forward on her elbow. Pulling her face tight, she presented a deliberate flat smile.
"Alright, Adelaide, I'll find it," he said pushing against the bench to stand up.
Situated on a top shelf was an old metal tin, something between an army ration of spam and a tiny treasure chest. Looking up at it, he closed his eye, inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly, then looked down at his hand before opening his eye back up. The box sat snugly in his grip.
"Alright. I got it" he stated flatly turning around.


A few cars lined the streets, years of disuse left them slumped, the color bleached by the sun resting languidly above the horizon. Leaves and detritus swirled around in quick choppy arcs as the brisk wind swept through unused streets and over uncut lawns.
The pair marched quietly along a sidewalk. Arthur's gaze traced the ground as they went, marking all the cracks and fissures, being sure to step up when a sidewalk tile was raised from the decade of unchecked growth by a close tree. Adelaide crossed her arms in front of her body, eyes fixed on the park, staring at the severed pillars of the jungle gym, the upper portion resting in rusty disarray in a heap on the dirt.
The sound of a bird occasionally broke through the bristling silence; a deep caw of a passing raven hopping from tree top to telephone pole.
"It can't believe it's already been eleven years," Arthur broke the silence.
"I know. It's still burned into my memory. My mother woke me up and I didn't even have time to take anything. We just left."
"Similar thing with me. I woke up hearing screaming, and then mom burst through the door to drag me out. I still remember looking out the back window of the station wagon and watching. Oh god."
Adelaide looked down to Arthur's face, his profile bobbing slightly as he took deliberate steps.
"What happened to your eye?" she blurted out calmly. "I mean I'm sorry for intruding but--"
"No it's alright," he stated, turning to look at her, "So, in sophomore year I came back here. I was just spiraling at college and I really didn't want to go home. Remember the things we found in the woods back in middle school?"
"Those weird stones like a mile trek from your house?"
"Yeah those. Well, I couldn't get into my old house--and didn't smash a window"
Adelaide looked away with a reflexive nervous smile
"so I went out to go for a walk," he continued, "I guess a part of me remembered what used to bring me comfort so it just gave me the impulse to do it. So I walked for maybe half an hour, ducking through brambles and climbing over fallen--"
"How does this have to do with your eye?" she interrupted.
"I'm getting there. Jeez. Well, I guess long story short those weird monoliths we found were different. Something had moved them around and they were almost vibrantly purple. There was a central rock, something new. It had a small divot in the middle. I went up and touched the rock and then suddenly I woke up in the parking lot of the highschool with half my face scarred and a missing eye."
"Holy shit, Arthur! What the fuck?" Adelaide exclaimed, stopping.
Arthur stopped and turned to her, a faint compassionate smile.
"Well, it's not all bad," he stated looking around at the overgrown yard next to them.
His gaze fell on a small rock situated against the steps leading up the the front porch. He closed his eye, and when he opened it, the rock was in his hand.
"What the fuck!" Adelaide shouted as she took a step back, extending her hands up in front of her.
"I don't know either. It only works for small things. Things that aren't moving, too, maybe. It's convenient, but if I do it too much I get migraines."
"Arthur that's not a fucking explanation! you fucking teleported a stone!"



Sitting quietly on the curb in front of the old high school, Adelaide scrolled through her phone, frustratingly refreshing, unsatisfied with the buffering caused by the 2 bars of signal.
Arthur laid back, splayed out on the side walk, staring up at the cumulus clouds puttering by overhead.