Ten Years Left

I'm sitting at the kitchen table. It's an average, mid-summer evening in my house, and the smell of curry mingles with mint-scented breeze from outside. My mother and I are engaged in a drowsy, slow conversation as I browse my laptop.

My eyes aren't focused on the slowly setting sun, and my nose is numb to the scent of home. It's an everyday thing after all. But an opportunity like the one I've been given is a one in a lifetime chance. I scroll through displays of graphics tablets and art programs, colleges and cities. There's so much, and my mind aches from the garish display of options.

My mother's voice distracts me for a fleeting moment.

"I would like to move to North Carolina. Your aunt says it's nice up there."

She has a faint smile on her face as she elaborates on this prospect.

"I might only have ten years left, but it would be nice to spend it up there, you know?"

Then silence.

The sun is fading behind the trees that encircle our neighborhood.

My laptop displays a few homes in Caldwell County.

Money is truly nothing.

Why not spend it on a dream?