Let’s Go.

He sighed.

 

It wasn’t much of a sigh.  Nothing that would signify any sort of emotion, any sort of thought process.  Just a heavier-than-normal exeunt of breath from his lungs, as if it was a race to see who could blow faster, himself or the wind.  The unseasonably warm winter air bit at his cheeks, cold enough to make them red, but warm enough to make him feel comfortably at ease with his surroundings.  A light snow dusted the ground underneath him, giving off a satisfying crunch every time he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  The stone upon which he sat was bitterly cold, as though winter had stuffed all its fury into one barrel-sized rock and placed it on the surface of the earth, challenging it to hold in the season as long as it could.  The rock was doing an exceptional job. 

 

The small traces of breath vanished quickly into the air, leaving no evidence that the young man sitting on the rock was still even alive.  The soft thumping of a slow-beating heart echoed only in the cavity of his chest.  It went no further. The wind was the only noise present, if it could’ve been considered a noise at all.  It was more of a whisper in both ears simultaneously, pushing him forward as if to say, “go”.  And it whispered forever, caressing his hair, his neck.  The cool comfort of the air assured him that he had a companion in the lonely wilderness.  Nature was all around him.  He was not alone, nor would he ever be alone again…not like it was before.

 

He shook his head violently.  He often compared now to then.  It was like an addiction, a bad habit that he absolutely couldn’t shake.  Things were different now.  He was a different man, a victorious man.  There was no need to dwell on how things used to be. 

 

Was there?

 

Sunshine enveloped his face as he stared into the setting sun behind the mountains.  The snow-capped peaks pointed upwards in a permanent stance of strength and endurance.  They had stood since the beginning of time, and they would stand until its end.  They would make men instantly contemplate their insignificance.  Leaders could crumble to dust before the majesty of those peaks, simply by thinking of their awesome stature.  Warriors, men, mice, even forests – all dwarfed.  Dwarfed and ashamed.

 

The sun began to look him more and more in the eye with every second of its descent.  Now, its bright rays stared directly into dark brown spheres that housed the innermost secrets of the man sitting on the rock.  He blinked.  Secrets were meant to be kept, and no disproportionately close stellar body would be stealing his today.

 

And then, it sank.  It grasped the top of the mountains with all it strength, but it lost the battle, just as it did every night.  It sunk, defeated, into the unknown depths of the other half of the world.  It was twilight, now.  The time before the night, the time where decisions would be made.  Do you run and hide indoors, light your candles for an artificial sun that would never die?  Or do you venture out into the night, the unknown, goosebumps running down your spine at every turn, every noise, every breath?  Twilight was nature’s way of allowing you to make that choice without consequence.  At least, no consequence from nature itself, although everyone knew deep inside what staying indoors would mean.  Who that takes no risks truly lives? 

<FONT face="Times New Roman”> 

The young man sitting on the rock was tired of being amongst the walking dead.  This calm was too much for him. Or, maybe, not enough. 

 

What would he choose?  Cast aside his complacency and comfort?  Sink his teeth into the flesh of the unknown?  Or remain a zombie, settling in to the warm fuzzy nature to which he had become so familiar and accustomed? 

 

“What do you think?”

 

He turned his head to the side and looked straight at the ground.  The black steel glimmered in the fading sunlight, but now stood cold and dark, a familiar coat indeed. Standing straight up like the colors for an army, the Sword stared back at him with a silent smirk.  As if he had to ask.

 

“Yes.  Let’s go.”

 

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January 23, 2005

More, please.

January 27, 2005

RYN: I’m glad I made you smile, but I reiterate, more please. 🙂 That would make *me* smile!