2

At a station dully named ‘Lake’, Jenna got off and hopped onto Bus Line 28, which would take her straight to Kenwood. She loved that bus ride because it went along the lakeshore, offering her a beautiful view for the whole journey. As soon as the bus gained momentum, Jenna leaned back in her seat and let memories cross her mind one at a time. She remembered the first visit she’d paid her brother when he merely got the keys to his new apartment. He’d awaited her at the bus stop, jolting around in anticipation. It had been his first time seeing the new home, as well. 

Long before that particular day, Jenna used to take Line 28 regularly to go to Oakwood Beach with her mom, an activity she’d cherished to this day, even though the two of them had stopped going there an eternity ago when Jenna had started high school and her mom would have to work extra hours at the department store. Jenna loved the beach, that liberating feeling of not having to worry about anything, the way the waves hit her ankles when she went into the water. The shade of blue the lake had when she squinted her eyes in order to observe the seagulls that were swimming on the surface far, far away.

“We’ll go there again someday”, her mother had promised her. But they never went back.

*

“A jazz record?”, Silas exclaimed exaggeratedly, a grin creeping onto his face as he eyed Jenna. She stood in the doorway, holding the vinyl in her hands as if she presented it to a jury. She was a little out of breath. When she didn’t answer, Silas took the chance to continue teasing her. 

“I never thought I’d live through that. You and jazz!”, he embraced her in a hug. After a while, Jenna let go. “Come on! It’s not that improbable.” Silas smiled. “Oh, but it is!” “Don’t pretend as if you hadn’t enjoyed Kate Bush when you were younger.”, Jenna retorted. “Kate Bush is for everyone”, her brother defended himself, “and timeless.” “I guess you’re right.”

Jenna looked around in her brother’s apartment, which had changed quite a lot since the last time she’d been here. A white, once completely blank wall, was now home to two huge art prints, the artist of which was unknown to her. Though they weren’t Silas’s artworks, the style resembled his; bold colours and unique patterns assembled into a semi-abstract motif. The longer Jenna stared, the more she saw in the paintings. The more she imagined what it could all mean, the more the artwork seemed to adhere to her thoughts. It merged into something new over and over again: A wheat field. A loving embrace. A dog on a blanket.