 |
| Source: Mimica |
Parker had fought against conformity all his life. When his friends followed a road to the left, Parker turned to the right. Contrary, said his mother, just downright contrary. Odd boy.
Roads lead in all directions, he reasoned. Truthfully, roads led everywhere, up and down, over and under.
Parker cupped the delicate fire of adventure close to his heart. He followed a yearning to climb distant peaks and to consider faraway lands. Walking with a rucksack over his shoulder, he set out.
Parker cupped the delicate fire of adventure close to his heart. He followed a yearning to climb distant peaks and to consider faraway lands. Walking with a rucksack over his shoulder, he set out.
In this solitude, Parker
recognized how fragile, how brief time was. So many people with such different lives walked their own roads with their own rucksacks.
In time Parker climbed one last peak. Grizzled and gray, he smiled at roads not taken. Roads caught in a snapshot in time would
continue, but he would not.
His road had come to an end.
Many thanks to Delores for posting 6 words and a sentence prompt (in bold italics). Each week this talented writer challenges participants to create prose, poetry, flash fiction, etc. You may hop over to her site by clicking on the yellow flowers on a stream at the right sidebar.
You may also decide to take up this challenge. Be brave!
