Happy Tuesday!
Bill Engleson (@billmelaterplea) flew the highest this week and takes his eleventh win!
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Will Beauty Wake?
He would want that, to wake beauty, to see her stir in the crumpled comfort of her soft duvet.
He would want that, this season, the one on the rise, wintry, the chill snaking down his spine, the warmth of his love for her, the desire to tell mankind that all is well, all is well.
He would want that.
But he breathes out, his arms sag, his eyes see what there is in the world, what there should be but isn’t, what could be, but can’t be, what will be, but, likely, won’t be.
He feels the bite of reality in his face, icicles of despair, hanging from the sags of time.
He does not want that.
He shivers with remorse for having such thoughts. This is not the way he would want it to be. In his mind, he struggles to find the joy that he is absolutely convinced was once there.
He was a younger man then.
The joy was there.
The beauty flourished.
The sun shone. It warmed him.
And her.
They would sit by the winter fire and bask in its heat.
They would toast the day.
They would praise the past.
They would glory in the future.
They would want the future.
But he was a younger man then.
She, a younger woman.
The world, its darkness then, it could be ignored.
Or fought.
Now, illusions are gone.
And beauty sleeps, ne’er to awake.
FictionTrials 