The daymare !
That was bound to be!
He look sideways, crossed the slim sand strip, ran low below the strati but never looked back. All he heard was the tic-tacs of the heavy copper quadrant he had hanging round his neck. Not that he was a rapper or a bling-bling kinda man, he was to bear the weight of time running off, before he would reach his destination. He knew the facts, the pros, the cons… he was fully aware of all the remaining options, but he was still hoping to get on the other side of that Rubicon, safe, untroubled… a victor upon his inner doubts.
His inbound insurrections waived fright, engendered boldness, hindered his petiteness. They got him to the brink of madness, that kind of madness that renders everything reachable, even the most elusive of mirages.
He would go catching falling stars, he said, thinking that his status was grand enough to reach for the skies. His eyes were shining, dazing through the darkest of his Stygian fears. And yet… He felt unfinished, incomplete, tasteless.
His very eyes, once full of glitz, then dried of disillusion, blurred with that latent mist that recalled sour days of blunders and plunders lived through. He would think of him as helpless, useless, “de-winged” like a fallen angel and doomed as such, craving for mercy from a lord he would not believe in. His eyes, reflection of his shattered soul were there to stand as witnesses of an unspoken truth.
“Is this hell? Another boudoir on the road to heaven?”, he asked, relentlessly working his mind out, trying to figure out a brave escape and yet again… Poor dreamer ! Chasing reality caught up… Again !
And here he was… Breathless, empty…
Yes! That was bound to be!
(to be continued)
- Love in the Morning (ritchoutoujours.wordpress.com)
- Act One – The Daymare (talesfromtheotherverse.wordpress.com)