Surrender to Uncertainty

Reads: 149  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Rather bleak and depressing. I was in that mood when I wrote it. Look, I'm participating in this website because I want to improve. It's as simple as that. While compliments are always appreciated, I would much rather receive constructive criticism. Thanks!

Submitted: January 19, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 19, 2008

A A A

A A A


Dan was not able to identify the bone that had broken through the skin of his thigh. He was astounded by its beauty, though. When he was able to gather the strength to raise his arm, he could smear away the blood on the point that protruded the farthest. It was as white as the three massive clouds that seemed to be fixed in place against the sky. He hadn’t noticed the clouds until he fell. His mind had been on other things, important things. Dan didn’t know what his wife was going to do about the job offer in Charlotte. He didn’t know if his mother would ever forgive his father. People became bitter and unpleasant as they aged, mused Dan. These were the last thoughts he had before the twenty-foot fall from his favorite place.

Dan often made the hike located only a mile up the street from his house when he needed to think. It was hidden behind a red, rusted gate and slowly zigzagged to the top of a rough, bare peak that seemed to dare the neighboring mountains to rival its beauty. He loved that it was never maintained. It was a trail of pure mud and dirt; nothing like those gravel or asphalt paths that were now so common. He could walk up for a mile, sit at the top to enjoy the view of the infinite countryside, and then walk back down to his car, returning to his beautiful wife and two children.

Dan didn’t know how long he had been lying on the ground. He sprawled out in the hundreds of dry brown leaves that were, unknowingly, suffocating the plants beneath them. They crunched every time Dan shifted his leg. Blood was dripping onto the leaves that rejoiced to be painted such an attractive color. They had once been brilliant shades of red, yellow, and orange, but were now all brown and brittle. Dan had never realized the similarities between the lives of humans and the lives of leaves before.

Dan’s blood was rebelling. It had once belonged to him; always obeying the needs of Dan’s body, the blood coursed through his heart, arteries, and veins, providing oxygen to every last finger and every last toe, should they need any. Now, though, the blood was disobeying Dan’s brain. It refused to stay within the confines of his body, blindly conforming to his every wish and desire. Why should it when a bright new world of clouds, mountains, and leaves was within its reach?

Dan’s thoughts would not listen to him either. They refused to do their job of reaching an intelligent conclusion about the situation he had found himself in. Instead they were intent on examining his life. Dan’s thoughts reviewed his family, job, and future with complete disregard to the usual censors required of them. “My life is so wonderful. I’m at the pinnacle of my career, my children and wife adore me, how could things ever improve?” thought Dan.

“Wow, would you look at that view!” The voice of an older man could be heard from Dan’s favorite place.

“I see it, honey,” answered a despondent woman between long, heavy breaths.

“I know I don’t say it enough, but, I love you,” said the man.

“Yes.”

Upon hearing the couple Dan’s wits revolted. He opened his mouth to cry out but something wouldn’t allow for such noise. A click of the tongue, a gurgle, a drool: this was all there was. Things will only get worse, thought Dan. As the years pass your body will fail you just as it is now. Your children will leave you and never look back. His wits were telling him such horrible things. Dan closed his mouth and then his eyes. He ran his fingers through the warm blood and sympathized with its plight. Dan sat. Dan waited.


© Copyright 2017 Sir Livey the magnificent. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Sir Livey the magnificent

Popular Tags