As the thunder rolled overhead, Mark Ferguson lifted his chin. Facing the heavens he cried out in a rage built by years of frustration. A lack of sex, a shortfall of friendship and a loss of family all weighed heavily on his mind. As he made eye contact with few stars peeking through a few breaks in the clouds, he lost his concentration. The beauty of the natural world around him, the way the earth smelled, how the waist-high grass rustled in the stiff wind accompanying the brewing thunderstorm, all of the unseen space surrounding him overwhelmed his senses. As the first drop of rain plopped at the tip of his upturned nose, he felt himself melt away. First it was his concerns, dripping to the soil beneath his feet. No more worrying, he thought. Then went his hopes, which he never noticed it in the first place. Pooling on the ground, he noticed the two canceled each other out, leaving a shadow-sized void just shy of his toes. Last, sliding down the length of him like the pouring rain now soaking his clothing, went his thoughts. And as the last one disappeared into the night, a calm came over Mark the likes of which he'd never experienced before. A free man, he gathered his belongings, and started walking.
But without his thoughts, he forgot he'd driven to the field and left his car sitting in the middle of nowhere. He never made it home.
