A hamlet lies in the center, covered with a layer comfort.

The sunset gives a prolonged farewell, there’s nothing left to see here, it jokes. A small pond unwillingly does the same; a moon will take the sun’s place, giving the pond a picturesque view. Shimming and raw. Although the scene contains inherent beauty, cold is concentrated. There is a poignent chill resonating in the atmosphere that frosts the troubled pond.

“Don’t stay in it’s grasp for too long… or it will perpetually haunt you,” an old man’s voice broke the silence, cadencing carefully to capture the right potency. His face was wrinkled, bearded and hard.

He was staring intently at his grandson, struggling to look confusion hard in the face.

“What do you mean?” the boy sat timid and focused. This was not his grandfather’s usual temperment and it scared him. The last time he was this serious, Nanna Mickey had fallen in a ditch.

Suddenly smiling, the old man winked, “just be careful.” Jack’s reaction was what he was counting on. It was all the old man could count on.

The boy understood. “I will be careful,” he smiled with authentic angel-like quality. His Grandpa repeatedly told him how “he wasn’t as young as he once was” and although he did not comprehend the full meaning, he accepted that his grandfather would not always take care of him.

This demonstration of innocense drove the old man’s heart into the ground. He ran up to the boy and fumbled to push him in the air. He danced with the boy and spun him around. They glided through the thickets, overriding mosquitoes, sawing through weeds, and delving deeper into the darkness. Happiness was mutual, but at it’s end. The man stumbled and passed over some rocks. Although the swirling movement heightened the boy’s glee, wisdom overcame the man as he set Jack down.

Jack–apparently not ready to stop–spun in circles with his arms spread out wide, flying into the ground. The man was panting as he lay down next to the boy.

Silence lay thick.

For a second time the chill of silent air was broken that night.

“I WILL NOT!” the boy screamed.

The man shut his eyes tightly, his body was stiff, and his face flowed with tears.

The boy was shaking now. “STOP I…” but everything hushed.

This entry was posted on Friday, December 19th, 2008 at 11:22 pm and is filed under Writings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.