Linda brown

One day, I will drive a car like this, not here in Atlanta, but somewhere in New York or maybe even Paris,

A girl must see farther than where her feet stand, and nothing will stop it, she silently vowed, scanning herself down from her chest toward the center of her gravity to her hip “My ambition, my weapon, and the solution she whispered to herself

It was a beautiful morning in Atlanta, and the early morning sun had risen over the city, breaking through the skyline, lighting up the glass towers and brick storefronts as if they were alive.

The town was already busy before the day breaks.

On Peachtree street, it was like the whole place was alive, cars horns sounded like they had another place more important to go, and buses let out those long sighs as they pulled up to stops. The air was this weird mix of fresh bagels and car exhaust. It’s not exactly pleasant, portraying that unmistakable perfume of urban life

Linda Brown was right in the middle of all of it, walking briskly and elegantly like an angel of beauty, with her group of college friends from the State University of Georgia,

Their gossip turned into laughter, chattering about finals and professors, usual college stuff

But Linda’s mind went far beyond the campus, With eyes fixed steadily on a glossy dark black tesla model x Toyota jeep down the street, its tinted windows reflecting the sun light like a mirror, momentarily she stood still, gaze still fixed on this land conqueror, “one day I will drive a car like that”, Never in this city, somewhere in New York or may be even Paris, she whispered dreamily, she could already see herself wrapping her hands around the wheel.

Her friends didn’t allow that to slide.

Twisting her head and greatly amused, Paris? Brianna, interrupted, raising an eyebrow, You haven’t even finished your capstone project,

Exactly, Tasha added, rolling her eyes, ‘talking about Europe when we’re still struggling to deal with Atlanta rent’

Linda smiled, but you could tell she wasn’t giving a dam. “A girl must see farther than where her feet stand.”

Her friends might have teased her, sure, but deep down, they knew Linda didn’t play around when it came to her dreams. While they were content imagining careers in Atlanta, she envisioned herself walking the avenues of Manhattan or sipping coffee on cobblestone streets in Europe; her ambition was a thirst she couldn’t silence. A longing for something bigger.

It was as usual later in the evening at the brown’s home. Mr. and Mrs. Brown, Linda’s parents, lived in a little modest flat on the Southside, the kind where life spills outside the walls whether you like it or not. Children were playing basketball in the open space with loud noises. A neighbor’s dog barked ceaselessly, the rattling noise of generators seems endless, blending into the summer air.

Linda was standing at the balcony resting her jaw in her hands, glancing at the sky as it losses its light. Suddenly, a plane cut through the darkness, its blinking lights cutting clean through the clouds, tracing a path toward somewhere far beyond Georgia

Jaws dropping to the ground, and frozen, staring at it as if it were calling her name

“I won’t be standing here watching forever,” she whispered. It was like the words came out without her realizing it, “one day, I’ll be up there, leaving this place for good”

Linda, it is time for dinner, her mother’s voice interrupted from inside,

She shook off the moment, “Yes, mama”, she replied, though her eyes lingered skyward for a few seconds

Inside, the family gathered around the same worn wooden dining table they always ate at. It was a simple dinner, mac and cornbread, the usual comfort food. Her parents were chatting about gas prices, a neighbor’s wedding, and family struggles of everyday life. Linda nodded, smiled, even laughed like she was part of the conversation, but her mind drifted somewhere else

She wasn’t tasting the mac and cheese; she was tasting freedom. She wasn’t hearing her parents talk; she was hearing the hum of aero planes at the airport, the rush of languages she didn’t yet know, the music of cities built for dreamers like her.

At that instance, that small apartment with its warn out furniture seems like falling apart around her.

“I vow nothing will hold me back”, she promised herself committedly,” not money, not tradition, nor even love. One day I did leave Atlanta behind, and when I do, I won’t retreat”, she concluded