| Photography | Writing | What Nots |
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| Little Green Men | The Old Man | Is It Real | The Stranger | Think Hard |
An old man, and a young feller walked through an overgrown dense forest. They walked together and pondered the years that drifted by. The old one talked of how sometimes it was better to not try to steer your own course, but to move with the river as it flowed through the hills. The young fella disagreed, he thought that all people should take control of their lives and control their destiny. The clouds rolled in and within minutes blanketed the sky, blocking out the sun, and making it almost pitch dark. The old man had been in these woods many times before while nature had raised the stakes of the game. At times, he had seen it so dark that you could hide a lit light bulb in front of his face and he would have never seen it. The young fella however had never been in a dark, cold overgrown forest and he began to get nervous. He walked a little faster trying to see his way, steeping on old growth, tripping over fallen timber. The old man spoke to him and said "hey there young fella, let's just wait hear till the clouds pass, it won't be long". The young fella didn't even hear him, panic gripped him in it's hand, his blood pumped through his body faster, the sweet bitter sweat dripped from his nose, his mouth was dry, his thoughts raced. He yelled back to the old man "I'll find the way, the path, the trail, it's right over here". The old man again said "nah, I think we should wait, why, you couldn't see a night train coming through here right now". The young fella was convinced that he could, and would find the way. "I can do this, I can do this", he mumbled as he frantically moved though the dark forest. "I can find my way out of here, Then I'll come back for the old man, ah to hell with the old man, I'm getting out of here, I'm young and strong, and he's just going to sit there and do nothing".
The rain began to fall as the old man called again, but no reply came. He thought about the first time that he had been in this old forest, even before the town was here. How nervous, and panic-stricken he felt the first time nature pulled the wool over his eye's. He remembered being lost for three days before his shepherd had come looking for his sheep. There he was, so strong, and young, running around this old forest not knowing up from down, right from left, but determined to make it own his own. He thought about going to find the young fella, but the sun was coming out now, he could feel the warmth press against his arms. The raindrops had all but stopped, and the hairs on his arms stood to salute the sun in its glory. "how long before the kid comes back" he thought, as he waited and called. He wished that he were young again and he could go find the boy, but he knew he could not; he was old, feeble and blind.
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| © Michael Hewston Creative Writing, Photography, and Personal Coach Email | Telephone: 406.883.6237 |