I am the broken one
08-27-2018, 09:22 PM
The young pup with the broken eyes looked out across the dry and dusty dunes, and saw a world distant and far removed. It was hard to separate dreams from reality, which was the origin of a greater part of his silence. Was he answering ghosts, or a person before him? Sometimes it was easier to release the thin tendrils he held of reality, to believe his mother walked beside him.
Following the footsteps in the sand that she had left in his imagination, he had walked a ways from the densite of the golden goddess that cared for him. A part of him understood that leaving the blanket of her protection was a mistake. What if he could not find his way back to her? But a larger part of him could not leave the wispy white form of his mother as she trailed carefree steps across the hot sand. It was easy to imagine how she would glow in an inviroment like this, the early morning dawn would reflect from the silvers of her coat until she stood like a becon on the rolling dunes.
She didnt speak as she lead him through the blank and featureless landscape. If his untrained nose couldn't follow his scent trail home, he would become helplessly lost. Perhaps that would bother him later. Maybe, it was hard to work up emotions like distress these days. Fear had become an old friend that never truly left him, and its effect on him had weakened. His little tiny body was a shadow beside the ghost of someone who was not really there, and the silence he wore like a protective shroud around him. So long as he did not speak, the mirage of his mother would not leave him.
Following the footsteps in the sand that she had left in his imagination, he had walked a ways from the densite of the golden goddess that cared for him. A part of him understood that leaving the blanket of her protection was a mistake. What if he could not find his way back to her? But a larger part of him could not leave the wispy white form of his mother as she trailed carefree steps across the hot sand. It was easy to imagine how she would glow in an inviroment like this, the early morning dawn would reflect from the silvers of her coat until she stood like a becon on the rolling dunes.
She didnt speak as she lead him through the blank and featureless landscape. If his untrained nose couldn't follow his scent trail home, he would become helplessly lost. Perhaps that would bother him later. Maybe, it was hard to work up emotions like distress these days. Fear had become an old friend that never truly left him, and its effect on him had weakened. His little tiny body was a shadow beside the ghost of someone who was not really there, and the silence he wore like a protective shroud around him. So long as he did not speak, the mirage of his mother would not leave him.