Fiction, Music, Poetry, Reviews and the Occasional Drawing.

Thursday, March 31, 2016

Fictional Humans of New York (FHONY) - The Early Bird

If I just keep moving....Which way am I facing? West? If I keep moving westward, I'll eventually fall off a cliff, or drown, or circumnavigate the globe. Or get tired and quit before I realize any of those lofty ambitions.

I could go east...just to be contrary. Eastern philosophy suits my state of mind. It's gentler. Who couldn't use a little tenderness? It's an unforgiving world in every direction, one that forces even the strongest of us to beg for mercy. And I'm not the strongest. I'm barely strong enough to admit my weakness.

I can't find a way up and I can't imagine there's much farther down I can go. I can't go back. There's no back I want to go to even if I hadn't burned the bridges. I don't see any tolerable way forward. It doesn't look like there will ever be a way in for me and I can't get any farther out.

If I turn myself inside out...

North is too cold, and south is too hot, and my current position is unsustainable, so I have to move. West makes the most sense, toward the sunset, toward the mountains, toward the monstrous Pacific. Maybe when I get there I'll learn how to fly. I could build a nest in the rocks overlooking the waves. I bet I could even enjoy eating worms if it's not too late to be the early bird.