The Artist

Unraveling before him was a narrow path, lit with the dim light of the moon. Overhead, the trees stretched towards the sky with bony fingers and naked arms, lacing together a canopy of forgotten memories. Nothing but silence filled his ears, drowning out the empty whispers of abandoned dreams and haunted thoughts. He had to make a choice between shipwrecked ancestors or fragile sanity, but his heart twisted into knots as his breath caught in the net of his throat. Even as the dark began to snuff out the few stars that had led him down the road, he did not move. The paths attempted to entice him with their faded promises of glistening futures, but neither offered what his wounded soul yearned for.

As the vacant sky and the path behind him began to be pulled into the oblivion, the silence was interrupted by a roar that signaled the fast approaching end. No, it was all happening too soon. He wasn't ready. His knotted heart squeezed tighter in his chest, suffocating and trapping him. The weight of the absence grew heavier as the ground rumbled beneath his feet. His face paled and contorted into fear when he realized there was no other way out.

Quickly, he began to run forward with the path to the right being his escape. He didn't want to enter the void and become nothing more than an empty thought, even if it meant living a life that he didn't feel was his. Feet pounded against the churning ground as he struggled to run faster, but his attempt was futile as he felt like he was running through tar; each step was harder than the last. His breath was heavy as he glanced over his shoulder, and to his dismay, the void had only grown larger, darker, and gave no sign of slowing down.

He turned forward again. Something had caught his eye as he neared the mouth of the path. Without a second thought, he stopped and grew still like a forest before the storm. It was a small, white light that gently pulsed, lingering just past the dirt where the paths split; it was almost like the stars that had been extinguished moments ago. There was something archaic about its glow, something that he thought he had lost long ago, leaving his heart empty and his soul cold.

Now, he felt the summer warmth thaw the ice that gripped him, and moving with renewed ease, he started towards the orb. The closer he came, the bigger and brighter it grew. He could feel the mass of absence nip at his heels like a blood hound, but he dared not look back. With one last burst of energy, he jumped towards the light, its very presence swallowing him whole. He could hear the darkness hiss and scream, receding from his consciousness like the waves fleeing from the shore.

As his body was kissed by the sunlight he couldn't see, his feet lightly touched solid ground, reassuring him that he was no longer in danger. All of his worries and fears melted away with the cage of ice that once held his being captive for so long. He stood still a moment, his eyes closed from his uncertain leap of faith. Instead of silence, he could hear patient whispers murmur in his ear, but he could not understand them.

Summoning his courage, he opened his eyes, half expecting to see a paradise of the summer's glow and ancient smiles, but was instead greeted by the marbled surface of his ashen wood desk with his quill in hand as he left the realm of dreams and came back to reality. On the weathered parchment that pressed against his cheek, his calligraphy danced and unfolded into the records of his former journal entries and list of commissioners, the last line drifting into incoherent scribbles as the thought had trailed.

He sighed and straightened, running a hand over his weary face. His muscles ached from remaining quiescent for so long. The sun was receding in the sky, signaling the short moment of twilight before the moon rose to claim its place. His tired forest eyes scanned the landscape, remembering the lifeless expanse that had manifested in his dream. He didn't understand its meaning, or what it could have symbolized, but he did know that he didn't like the yearning and the sorrow that followed and made his heart heavy.