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The Man who Escaped it All

Short story By: Cody22
Other



A very short story of a man who finds his answer.


Submitted:Mar 22, 2013    Reads: 53    Comments: 3    Likes: 2   


The Man who Escaped it All.

The reasonable man is asked to sacrifice it all, his home, his family, his life, everything. Compromise the lot, for a vision of the evil few. Jack's life was near over; they had almost taken that to, gradually, like an ocean of hate advancing slowly on a sand dune. He saw it slip away from his grasp, collapse into a pacific of hopelessness. Jack's revenge could have been the knowledge that his foes would forever be prisoners of their thoughts. They would be haunted. Haunted to their graves.

Every so often Jack would be visited by a sharp sadness. The memory of how things use to be would knock on the door of his thoughts.

Rat a tat a tat

"Let me in", the memory would rattle.

Jack would have opened that door a thousand times and let the bright memory and hope that accompanied it shine in. However hate now consumed him. He would remember his foes and how they mocked and took from him his family, his life, everything. He shut out the knocking. He was preoccupied with negative thoughts and plotting revenge.

"Something will have to change I can-not go on like this", he decided.


Jack knew he had the power to transform. Jack was waiting for an opportunity to open like a spring bud flowering. He would be transformed and leave the cocoon empty in his wake. Perform his personal alchemy. It was time to reach beyond what he had, beyond this self-doubt beyond the neighbours whispers and gossip. He sat down on his armchair and pictured himself as an eagle soaring above the mountain tops. He had a view from the gods and saw the world, him in his armchair, his whispering neighbours, his little plotting enemies, his old friends and even his departed family. The higher he flew the more he saw.

"If only I could remain an eagle", Jack wished "If only……"

The clock on the mantelpiece next to the armchair had stopped. The cinders in the fire were burnt out. Jack woke out of the dream, lazily and stretched. He was back on firm ground. He looked at the cold cup of tea in front of him on a nearby table and the familiar surroundings of the house. Then to his astonishment a beautiful brown and white feather zig zagged its way down from the ceiling above him and onto the ground.

Jack picked the feather off the floor, stood up and smiled.

"Finally, I know what to do".





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