“I want to go home.”
Thomas stood watching the unending landscape, rifle in hand. “Well, we all do sometimes.”
“No, I mean it. I’m done.”
He looked away from the horizon for the first time since his shift started. “Don’t you believe it matters, John?”
“I did.”
“But don’t you still?”
John looked around at the broken men setting up for another night of sleeping on the ground and stomped his cigarette under his feet. “The problem is, there are too many people who wanna’ make a change out here dyin’ for people who just wanna’ make a name.”
About the Creator
Lucia B.
Poet
Novelist
Linguist & Aspiring Polyglot
Bibliophile
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Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
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Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic2 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Interesting story, Lucia! I'd love to see this expanded into something bigger! I'd love to know more about John and Thomas and the journey they are on.