Watch out for tree branches
David
Posts: 2
I wrote this a bit ago. Excuse any typos as i am the writer, not the editor.
A man was walking down a dead end road, looking for a bite to eat. darkness was old but he held out hope. he knew the end held the bread, but never would he see what he molded onto the loot in his mind. you see, he tripped himself on his way. fell over a tree branch that had been blown over by the wind. his ankle was now sore, and noone can move that way. so the end was near with no bread in sight. now his question was why had he taken this road when there was a through passageway a half mile back? his boots were made for trips like this, but not for swollen ankles, so he lie there, alone in the street, with nothing but dreams of past glory and broad shoulders. the worst that could happen is he would wait until morning. he knew the dew would settle and the fog would pass. but that house in the distance. was anyone there? would they drive past?
so he dreamt of fountains of youth and wild berries. and he slept not a wink. he stargazed and wondered aloud, maybe hoping someone would hear him, maybe hoping he would hear himself. the sun never entered his thoughts, he focused on the house up ahead and the darkness he was leaving behind. it consumed him, for he knew his fate was sealed long ago. and he knew his friends would never see him. not since that day long ago when he decided he needed them no more. "my last mistake," he thought, as the wind blew leaves over his muddled view of the night sky. and he knew, for the first time perhaps, what he had done. past mistakes haunt us all, but second chances come as often as the mistakes before. if he only realized he could forgive himself in time maybe his ankles would carry him. but he lie there, empty. and wanting.
there is nothing like being alone at the end of a deserted road if you are the deserter. he knew this now, and he regretted every last minute he had spent walking. for all this hungy, tired, and pathetic man wanted was a ride.
A man was walking down a dead end road, looking for a bite to eat. darkness was old but he held out hope. he knew the end held the bread, but never would he see what he molded onto the loot in his mind. you see, he tripped himself on his way. fell over a tree branch that had been blown over by the wind. his ankle was now sore, and noone can move that way. so the end was near with no bread in sight. now his question was why had he taken this road when there was a through passageway a half mile back? his boots were made for trips like this, but not for swollen ankles, so he lie there, alone in the street, with nothing but dreams of past glory and broad shoulders. the worst that could happen is he would wait until morning. he knew the dew would settle and the fog would pass. but that house in the distance. was anyone there? would they drive past?
so he dreamt of fountains of youth and wild berries. and he slept not a wink. he stargazed and wondered aloud, maybe hoping someone would hear him, maybe hoping he would hear himself. the sun never entered his thoughts, he focused on the house up ahead and the darkness he was leaving behind. it consumed him, for he knew his fate was sealed long ago. and he knew his friends would never see him. not since that day long ago when he decided he needed them no more. "my last mistake," he thought, as the wind blew leaves over his muddled view of the night sky. and he knew, for the first time perhaps, what he had done. past mistakes haunt us all, but second chances come as often as the mistakes before. if he only realized he could forgive himself in time maybe his ankles would carry him. but he lie there, empty. and wanting.
there is nothing like being alone at the end of a deserted road if you are the deserter. he knew this now, and he regretted every last minute he had spent walking. for all this hungy, tired, and pathetic man wanted was a ride.
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me, myself and i have always wanted to climb a tall tree, but i will never get my fat ass in shape enough to do it.
thanks for the inspiration.