Time, it moves quickly for most of us as we near our years of wisdom, our "older" years. Some begin to doubt everything in life, their beliefs, their way, and some of us don't deny these doubts and come full circle. Some of us embrace what has become, what will be, and we accept it. The character here in this tale is somewhere in between, lost in a universe that he can't explain, but hasn't quite come to the realization, yet. Please lift your proverbial shot glasses and down another shot of my story, thanks. Again, this never gets old, buy a book with some similar shorts here: Blood, Dreams & Tears
It moved closer and then sniffed. I hunkered tighter to the bow of the sagging pine tree branches, and it squatted, peering into the thick brush of the tree squinting its piercing yellow eyes until they were slits. I shivered and backed up a bit and it turned to walk away. I blew out a sigh of release, and it exited in a slight whistle. The thing turned around to look again, and then ran away. Just as my eyes began to follow it, the screech came, and this time it came from further back towards the wood line of the property.
I was exhausted, my legs two noodles cooked for too long. Everything was groggy and fog like, the fog that was my mind surrounded me. It was thick and hung in the air so thickly that I couldn’t see my hands in front of my face. I wiggled my fingers around trying to see them; it seemed like a bizarre magic trick. All the while, I had forgotten the car was left running and that I was going to be late for work. I started to walk through the thick misty air of the fog, leaving the screech behind in the woods for another morning, or another night that may bring it to me again. I immediately forgot what I was doing and I was sitting back in my car. The time never changed, my coffee steamed. Time had not moved in minutes.