R15 Drabble, #13: Road
The inconsistency miraculously continues:
13. Road
His road was long and hard, but he had known that in charting it. With his decision had come a strange sort of peace: the serenity of acceptance, the confidence of certainty. A submission to his own will. Satisfaction and strength in embracing it.
It was a path he had always expected to walk alone, just as his choice had been a solitary matter. At every crossroads he made the same decision again and again and if he paused at any of them, it was a temporary fancy, compunctions he readily set aside (and if not readily, then “for now,” as he would tell himself, trying to ignore the logic that told him there might never be a “later”).
Relying only on himself, he walked that road. If not easily, then hopefully. And if not hopefully, then determinedly.
So the day surprised him when he looked back and found them trailing in his footsteps: a small host of souls, one after the other, like links in a chain--or, he envisioned suddenly, like the pumping pistons of an inline engine, his own ambition the fuel, his actions the spark, and the synergies thereof propelling him farther ahead. A cycle of his unknowing creation, or maybe theirs altogether--unstoppable.
All and well, since he had no intention of stopping.
So he thought until he arrived at another crossroads.
Two paths lay before him. One, familiar in all its unknown twists and unseen dangers, its vast mountains, dark forests, and barren deserts. The other, no less clear, but sedate and leisurely, a kinder path denoted from the untamed wild with the illusion of safety--or maybe with no illusions at all.
For him, there were no doubts. There couldn’t be. He entertained that other path now and again, but as no more than a fantasy, a pleasant thought to pass the time. But now he considered something new.
Them.
When he made his decision now, would they follow him? Or would he travel on alone (again, the thought occurred, accompanied by an odd feeling)?
Did they stand at their own crossroads, with their own cross-purposes, weighing his destination with theirs (in his mind: an amusement park ride from his youth, standing in line, noticing a small door marked “Exit” halfway through)?
Could they follow him? Could he let them?
Did he want them to?
Yes.
No.
It was not his choice.
So he made his own, as always. And when they stepped into line behind him, his steps felt a little lighter, his path a little easier.
So it was, again and again.
And so he thinks, standing at the crossroads yet another time, the force behind him weaker now, one less in number. He thinks about that quiet path--about all their quiet paths--and he asks, “Will you follow me?”
And she answers, “You’re asking me that now?”
If he entertains that other path, it is only a moment’s hesitation. He turns away. For now, he tells himself--and them, as well, silently. Later, he thinks, the paths must meet and there will never be another crossroads.
Maybe then he can walk beside them.
Maybe then they can choose together.
A R15 (RoyAi)... without the "Ai?" Kind of. It wasn't supposed to be, but by the time I had reached the end, inserting the RoyAi element would have felt... forced. But nothing else is sparking for the theme, so this is all I can offer for now.
13. Road
His road was long and hard, but he had known that in charting it. With his decision had come a strange sort of peace: the serenity of acceptance, the confidence of certainty. A submission to his own will. Satisfaction and strength in embracing it.
It was a path he had always expected to walk alone, just as his choice had been a solitary matter. At every crossroads he made the same decision again and again and if he paused at any of them, it was a temporary fancy, compunctions he readily set aside (and if not readily, then “for now,” as he would tell himself, trying to ignore the logic that told him there might never be a “later”).
Relying only on himself, he walked that road. If not easily, then hopefully. And if not hopefully, then determinedly.
So the day surprised him when he looked back and found them trailing in his footsteps: a small host of souls, one after the other, like links in a chain--or, he envisioned suddenly, like the pumping pistons of an inline engine, his own ambition the fuel, his actions the spark, and the synergies thereof propelling him farther ahead. A cycle of his unknowing creation, or maybe theirs altogether--unstoppable.
All and well, since he had no intention of stopping.
So he thought until he arrived at another crossroads.
Two paths lay before him. One, familiar in all its unknown twists and unseen dangers, its vast mountains, dark forests, and barren deserts. The other, no less clear, but sedate and leisurely, a kinder path denoted from the untamed wild with the illusion of safety--or maybe with no illusions at all.
For him, there were no doubts. There couldn’t be. He entertained that other path now and again, but as no more than a fantasy, a pleasant thought to pass the time. But now he considered something new.
Them.
When he made his decision now, would they follow him? Or would he travel on alone (again, the thought occurred, accompanied by an odd feeling)?
Did they stand at their own crossroads, with their own cross-purposes, weighing his destination with theirs (in his mind: an amusement park ride from his youth, standing in line, noticing a small door marked “Exit” halfway through)?
Could they follow him? Could he let them?
Did he want them to?
Yes.
No.
It was not his choice.
So he made his own, as always. And when they stepped into line behind him, his steps felt a little lighter, his path a little easier.
So it was, again and again.
And so he thinks, standing at the crossroads yet another time, the force behind him weaker now, one less in number. He thinks about that quiet path--about all their quiet paths--and he asks, “Will you follow me?”
And she answers, “You’re asking me that now?”
If he entertains that other path, it is only a moment’s hesitation. He turns away. For now, he tells himself--and them, as well, silently. Later, he thinks, the paths must meet and there will never be another crossroads.
Maybe then he can walk beside them.
Maybe then they can choose together.
A R15 (RoyAi)... without the "Ai?" Kind of. It wasn't supposed to be, but by the time I had reached the end, inserting the RoyAi element would have felt... forced. But nothing else is sparking for the theme, so this is all I can offer for now.