happyboy

Alone and encircled I sit amongst the trees. They tower over me, their branches held out to keep me from running past them. The ground is cold, wet, soothing, fresh from the rain that dampens my clothes. I want to cry out, but fear I will only laugh maniacally and lose what is left of my grip on reality, so I grit my teeth, bolt my head upright and curse the sky for its permanence with a stare of repugnance and shame.

I shook the moutains and twisted the streams. I chased the wind and ran from the stars. They just laughed at me, "silly, ridiculous, little one! No matter what you do, your day will come, but we will be eternal." I rest now on my knees, too tired to force the issue any further.

I will see the sun rise tomorrow and I will greet it, not as friend or foe, but as a sign that things go on and on. And I will rise and stretch. I will hug myself and blow warmth back into my hands. Then I will grab my walking stick and move out towards the horizon. I will stop, turn back to the mountain, the streams, the wind and the stars that hide during the daylight, and give them a gesture I know they will not like and say "You're gonna have to wait a while. I am still here, you haven't won anything yet." And then I will leave, listening to their laughter falter and then crack....