reaching the end of the line

reaching the end of the line

fiction
edward w pritchard


Vanishing identity, resting heart, disappearing mind, absent soul.
The end of the line accomplished, oblivion.

autumn leaves, they fall each November

fiction
Edward w Pritchard

It overwhelms me when the autumn leaves fall. Millions of folded pieces of fading color whisking about the yard calling to be contained and controlled by my invisible neighbors and the faceless people of our hostile town.

In semi darkness each November I dread the fall of the Autumn leaves. My sister gives me chewable vitamin D to combat the vanished Sun. Insidiously the leaves pile about the yard. Sometimes I wake early and try to control the piling leaves but they defeat my intentions as more and more leaves arrive from hostile trees to weigh down vanquished grass; grass which will never the less strain to grow in the semi-darkness of a long dreary Winter. Defeated I slump into the house for caffeine and music.

Holiday music rescue me from the cacophony of noise made by the leaves as they fall and scrape about the cluttered yard. Defeated Sun peep fifteen minutes of sunshine and brightness into my lonesome soul.

My shoulders slump and my feet drag as I bend in attack against the leaves with bent short handled rake.

Cover mine ears; my neighbor jumps on the double quick from his double sized Truck and aggressively pumps up the volume with a Sears deluxe 1000 decimal level leaf blower to order his world.

It's overwhelming when hostile nature ushers in Winter loneliness and darkness with endless flurries of useless, discarded leaves.

end

Consider the leaves, [for] men are like leaves
[for] when leaves into dust are whirled
soon green forests buds millions anew
So come, so pass, all that are born of men
Homer
Iliad book 6 lines 146 to 149
as paraphrased by EWP who doesn't read original Greek

we suffer the most when we suffer for someone else unselfishly

fiction

Edward w Pritchard

It's easy to be detached in a sermon addressed to others.

We suffer the most when we suffer for someone else unselfishly.

No matter how empty I become inside there is still a space occupied by you.

Step into the light, I can't see you but for the total darkness.

Whisper aloud, I can't hear you but for the silence.

Move, I follow the shadow left by your absence.