Old Bourdeaux

• Stacey Keeble, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2020

It is a warm summer’s evening in Old Bourdeaux. The quiet gallop of horse’s shoes could lull even the lightest of sleepers to rest. The town itself was gorgeous at this time of year. With its redwood rooftops, ceramic tile walls and vibrant, rare trees, Old Bourdeaux has a delightful atmosphere. The main attraction of the town is the collection of various market stalls. The pungent aroma of spices combined with the fruity waft of the perfume stall is almost insatiable. A group of school children are playing melodic songs in their band. Locals are gathered around, listening to the acoustic thrums of their homemade guitars and giving change to them as a trade for listening in. This town is a tight knit community, who’s sole purposes are to help each other and look out for everyone. It’s almost nightfall and the sky is dancing with colours of blue, purple and pink. The world feels like it’s standing still when the sun finally touches the horizon. Crowds of people start to retreat back to their homes as the stars come out. Fleeting glances and whispers of goodbyes were all that was spoken between each citizen. The connection between each person in this town is quite clannish. Everyone’s faces are dusted with a dark shadow. The sun continues to seep further and further into the landscape and the last patch of sunlight on my face makes me feel as though the sun just kissed my cheek before returning home after curfew. The gentle breeze created a sense of closeness, it makes me feel less alone, less afraid. The warmth of the breeze blew across my face like the whispering winds sway the trees. The atmosphere of this quaint little town is certainly more comfortable than other crowded and complex towns. This town is simple, safe and satisfying.