Chasing Dreams

2

Control. He has none. He never did. Most likely he never will.

Broken bones physically have healed but everything has changed. He recounts lost time like fine wine that's turned sour through the ages. There's nothing left to lose.

Every day is exactly the same. His future already spiraling down the drain.

If you live in the past then you'll never move forward. This is something he still doesn't know.

Grease stained old blue jeans, scuffed up permanently scarred brown cowboy boots, shiny simple sterling silver belt buckle, worn out black belt strap, stained white t-shirt, a deep farmers tan complexation, sun bleached blond ends of naturally deep brown hair, and dark emerald green eyes that cretic everything he sees.

As a child everything was about getting out and seeing what was around. Now he remains almost as still as the paintings on the damp stone castle walls. Silence is the only sound he hears.

When there was once laughter, warmth, and the feeling of oblivion disguised as bliss or innocents. Cruel reality eventually must set in.

Everything has changed. Centuries have passed and now he is all that remains. A blessing? A curse? An infection. A disease. An arranged meeting that didn't go as planned. This is all that remains.

The appearance of normality can disguise the devious of creatures.

Slender pristine white pointed teeth catch the glint off of a full moon in a velvet black midnight sky. He rocks slightly from side to side and scans the castle grounds before him.

If he could go back in time, and fix the mistake that he made, leading to this eternal cage, he would. Except he has no control. It hasn't belonged to him in a long time.