And so the darkness subsumed him as he stepped out the door into the night. It was a day of salvation. He was redeemed from his sadness. which had overtaken him like wild beasts, like dogs on the road viciously biting… his words in his mind were bending into a hissing noise and he thought he would soon find his tongue forked, after all those years of honesty. But what is honesty, is it truth? Are lies not often as genuine? He thought so. The rain started as he locked the door behind him. It wasn’t worth sitting at home any longer, even for a rainy and rather cold night. It had been too long since he had a laugh with a friend, since he had tasted genuine companionship, since sex hadn’t been perfunctory. He was going to walk now, walk it all off, walk until he forgot, walk until his feet were sore instead of his eyes.
Thunder followed him down the road, and as he lifted his head to heaven he saw the screaming shots in the dark light the sky for a few moments and then dwindle. Checking behind him for other lonely pedestrians, he rounded a corner wondering when he would find what he was looking for. He had had one brilliant moment of light, so many years ago and it was gone… he had reshaped his entire self. He felt he had molded himself to his own satisfaction, that he had become a person in whom he could trust: and now look at him, hounded by his own memories, haunted by his past loves, living in an empty room… he had dream, I suppose, and that was why it hurt so much, this being alone. He shuffled his feet and thought “This is fucking pathetic.” He stopped, just for an instant, then forced his step, carrying on down the road.
Before long the rain had stopped. There was no point in walking on, so he sat down on a bench, staring at the river to clear. He almost slipped away from himself, for just a second, but regaining himself he settled even deeper into his seat and thought of how marvelous it would be if he could just go fishing, just him and the river and the mysteries it holds, and not having to think of anything else. He would’t even care if he didn’t catch a single fish, just so long as he could slip out of his shoes, settle in for a spell and relax.
And then it happened. He sat watching the river flow, its sweets and eddies, and soon his mind was as empty as his heart. The waters rushed by, the fish swam free, the skies opened up and rained agin but he was unaffected. That empty mind resonated with the sound of a symphony crashing with the waves on the shore, soaring with the birds in the heavens, diving down deep, until,
Until he rose, and walked from that spot, full again, and suddenly even Atlas in his labor felt renewed, and carried on refreshed, ready for the new day.