Dreaming Duncan Monroe

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A tale of a purposeful old man knowing of his life.

Submitted: July 01, 2019

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Submitted: July 01, 2019

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Daily he walks the same ten blocks, such a long course to take for the many. Not counting his steps or the corners where he goes down, he never stops. Crosswalk meeting crossed purposes, green, red or yellow doesn't give him pause; his fine pointed attitude devoid of all caution.

His direct direction is always the park, it is there that he knows for certain that trees actually talk.

It's a rather small and brown patchy grassy space, that which is so much finer than the concrete and sweltering asphalt he seeks to leave behind him.

Here, the bench he sits upon is aging along with him as a constant and stalwart companion.

But, since Duncan never wasted his time in thoughts of judgment, those courts of final decision, he never saw the rust or cracks of change, slowly appearing and meant to be.

Freshly forged iron and the newest of paint was all he saw. It was the place of himself in youth, the sight he constantly views all about him.

As they glance at him as he goes upon his way, he is seen by others as dottering and tottering, but only Duncan decides his steps, and in his mind the pace he sets is one of flowing acceleration. 

His constant slight smile as he dreams his life is of a moving forward found inside.

The judgment  of others, a brick wall like something, that which might break his calm and steady stride, keeps Duncan going, never once looking to left or to right.

Returning to his shelter at suns setting, he takes home with him the fond whispers of trees. Crawling into his bed and as he closes his eyes, they sing a lullaby tune of perfect peace.


© Copyright 2019 LE. Berry. All rights reserved.

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