Sunview Drive

Sunview Dr. was a quiet and solemn street. It’s shape was like a microphone, two parallel lines and then rounded at then end connecting the two. It was outlined with two-story houses that all had the same blueprint. A triangular roof that pointed up, a big arch leading to the front doorstep, one brown garage door, and above that, a long balcony that wrapped around the left corner. It was all the same structure, with the same color, the same balcony, and filled with the same people. You see Sunview Dr. was known for it being a rather wealthy neighborhood where most people settled for retirement. Although most of the neighbors there was one young woman two houses in. At night she would go out in the corner of the balcony and sip on a warm cup of camomile tea. She did this every night ever since her mother had passed. You see, as a child her and her mother would go on the balcony and read books, gaze at the stars, and talk about her father. He passed when she was just a couple months old and never got to meet him. She was only able to get to know him through old pictures and the stories her mother would tell her. All she knew was that her parents both met in college and her mother always said that she had his eyes. Deep blue eyes that had a hazel ring around the iris. She always thought she looked more like her father, but acted more like her mother. She thought of it as if they were still living through her, even if she feels more lonely than ever.

At this time a global pandemic had spread, many were in fear of the virus, but many had their suspicions. Either way the government had put the country on lockdown, causing authorities to arrest whoever was to go outside unless they were leaving for necessities such as food. About a week before the official lockdown a man had moved into the house across from the young woman which belonged to Mr. Brown. He was the owner of a timber business and had retired after 35 years. No one in the neighborhood knew why they left nor did they bother to ask. But even with a new homeowner, Sunview Dr. continued it’s silence that somehow grew quieter. All the windows were covered with curtains and blinds, some people in the town said that if you dropped a piece of cotton on the street, you could hear it echo. Everyone minded their own business except the young woman. You see she knew everyone who lived in each house. And not just know their names, but also their hobbies, spouses, families, where they came from, and what jobs they had. The thing was she never was searching for their story, see just simply observed from a bird’s eye view. So obviously, she was fully aware of the new kid on the block, and was very curious about him. He was not like the other neighbors since he was much younger, maybe early thirties. When she first saw him he wore dark levi jeans, with a red and yellow hoodie that said USC, and white converse that were now light beige color. She desperately wanted to meet him, but it wasn’t very usual to greet a new neighbor. Also she knew that the area was heavily secured by police, and could run the risk of getting arrested. What made her the most excited about wanting to get to know this man is that he too went out at night on the balcony. She wasn’t sure if he ever noticed her, but would not be discouraged if he did. 

It had been about two weeks into lockdown and for everyone the nights seemed to grow longer and longer. Everyone kept themselves occupied, but she did not mind the long nights. The moon was her close friend and the stars were her dreams and aspirations. The sun began to fade and she prepared her cup of tea and grabbed a blanket. She walked to her spot on the balcony and rested her forearms right at the corner of the railing. Shortly after she saw a light come on from across the street. It was his house, and from the light emerged the new neighbor with a cigarette and a notepad. She wanted to wave, but already felt too tense to move at all. He noticed that she was staring at him and looked over at her. She sharply looked up at the sky and started to gulp her tea. Forgetting that it was too hot to sip, the scolding liquid burned her tongue and she jolted back spilling some on herself, causing even more pain. The man chuckled as he witnessed her struggling with her beverage. Now knowing that he has her full attention, she nervously waved and said, “Hi, how are you?” Not quite sure what she said he politely waved back and said, “Sorry what was that?” She then was confused and wasn’t sure of his response so she repeated, “How are you?” Again not quite sure, he stood perplexed and then gestured to her to wait a moment and took out his notepad and a pen. Not sure what he was doing, she waited and watched the pen wiggle back and forth across the page. After a few moments he tore it out and started to fold the paper into what seemed to be an airplane. After he was done he pointed the paper aircraft right at her house and threw it across the street. It glided all the way to her balcony hitting the sliding glass door. Impressed that it had made it all the way across the street, she opened the folded paper which said, “Hello, my name is Anthony, nice to meet you :)” She smiled and ran to go grab a pen. Again after a few moments she threw the plane across and landed in his balcony. He opened the message and read “Hello there, my name is Luna.” Shortly after they begin to send messages back and forth for the next hour and a half. They find out that he moved into the house since it was owned by Mr. Brown, who was his son that took over the timber business. Also that he too lost his mother in a car accident at a young age, but has always looked up to his stepmom. They both exchange why they go out in the balcony every night, and he reveals that it is his only time to rest in the day. It was his therapy to stare at the stars and draw whatever came to mind. Towards the end of the conversation he glided over one last plane that seemed to have a lot of writing on it. She slowly opened it and smiled at him realizing he was watching closely. It was a sketch of a woman leaning against a railing, looking up. She had a tied up bun and a cup of tea in her hand. Her stomach filled with butterflies and sent the plane back. He read, “I wonder who that could be?”, he laughed and sent back one last message. She opened the letter sent from across the streets which said, “Thank you for tonight, here is my number so you can tell me all the stories your mother would share with you. Call at any time.” She stared at the page and her eyes watery. For all she ever wanted was for someone to listen.