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Footprints in the Sand

The Version You Haven't Heard

By Gerard DiLeoPublished 3 months ago Updated 3 months ago 2 min read
3
Are you going my way?

My heart was heavy, but I trudged on. My weight was that of Atlas, but I put the next foot forward. My feet sunk deeper the harder I tried, in Sisyphisian torture. And when all was lost, I turned and looked behind me. There were two sets of footprints in the sand.

I hadn't walked alone. My spiritual companion was there to walk with me. Renewed with spiritual courage, I resumed in earnest.

After some time, I looked askew, and I noticed there was only one set now as I walked. I was alone.

Why was I alone?

It was hard. There was no one walking beside me. There was no one carrying me, which would have explained the single set of footprints. Each inch was as painful as Prometheus' liver. Each stride was as if fouled by harpies.

Where were the other footsteps? Why was I left alone to carry my own weight?

I began to run, as if in a race, but it was a chase. After all, my companion, my savior, had either dropped far behind me or had jumped ahead, hurtling past unspoiled beach. I should see his tracks soon enough!

My pain of Prometheus was from foresight. So I stepped it up, and then laughed at the pun. Or was it the endorphins kicking in. I raced as fast as possible. I would catch up to my savior and ask him, Where were you when I needed you?

I jumped over driftwood. I flew over seaweed. I skipped over the beached whale. Then I stopped. I turned back around to regard the beached whale. It side-eyed me, then squirmed its way backward and was at sea within a moment. It issued out a spray from its blowhole as I did the same from my own, because it was saved but I was not.

I saw that the whale had left a grand serpentine indentation in the sound from its errant drive onto dry land and its retreat back into the life-giving waters. And next to its indentation was another. This whale, like me, had a savior who was much too busy for me, apparently.

You can call me Job. And that, as they say, is the rest of the story. So pray for me. I don't see things getting any better any time soon.

Microfiction
3

About the Creator

Gerard DiLeo

Now in Life Phase II: Living and writing from a decommissioned Catholic church in Hull, MA. Phase I: New Orleans (and everything that entails).

https://www.amazon.com/Gerard-DiLeo/e/B00JE6LL2W/

email: [email protected]

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Comments (3)

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  • Collins Munala Haybreeze2 months ago

    Wow, the best I've read all month. Perfect.🧢❤️❤️🌹🤞🏾

  • Oooo, I really loved the whale part! Also, is that Job as in from the Bible? Because other than his name, I know nothing else 😅

  • Babs Iverson3 months ago

    Magnificent!!! Love it!!!

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