amonkie

For this week... we have an open ended story!


Add your contribution to is posted previously... starting with this:


Simon woke up and rubbed his eyes, looking around. All around him was dead brown grass, and at his feet a rock held down a piece of paper. The dusty road led over the hill, and the sun began to hurt his eyes. He sat up to peer at the paper, dust falling as he did so.

__________________
Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna

vonstalhein

Simon woke up and rubbed his eyes, looking around. All around him was dead brown grass, and at his feet a rock held down a piece of paper. The dusty road led over the hill, and the sun began to hurt his eyes. He sat up to peer at the paper, dust falling as he did so.
-*-
The ink was still wet, the cursive type flowed across the page like the wisps of a long forgotten wind. The flourishes of some secret hand caught his attention, but so much as the declamatory prophetic voice of what he read:
'You will travel the road, and you will travel yourself. You will travel to me..until then, you cannot know who you are'
And thus Simon, ignorant of his heritage, his purpose, even his appearance, stumbled forth into the haze that hovered sublimely before the horizon. He stumbled forth into his own life, not knowing where it might take him, or what he would find. Someone would have the answers.

__________________
No Win No Fee

tecoyah

Simon woke up and rubbed his eyes, looking around. All around him was dead brown grass, and at his feet a rock held down a piece of paper. The dusty road led over the hill, and the sun began to hurt his eyes. He sat up to peer at the paper, dust falling as he did so.
-*-
The ink was still wet, the cursive type flowed across the page like the wisps of a long forgotten wind. The flourishes of some secret hand caught his attention, but so much as the declamatory prophetic voice of what he read:
'You will travel the road, and you will travel yourself. You will travel to me..until then, you cannot know who you are'
And thus Simon, ignorant of his heritage, his purpose, even his appearance, stumbled forth into the haze that hovered sublimely before the horizon. He stumbled forth into his own life, not knowing where it might take him, or what he would find. Someone would have the answers.
-*-
Reflecting on the twisted path that lead him here, Simon traced the imprint of time back in his mind. There were a few people who could have changed the course of events, Brigette the most likely of them.If only he had walked out of that Cafe three years ago, and thrown that white rose into the steel mesh jaws of a city garbage can, it was the rose that started him down this trail...the Rose.

__________________
Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha

silvertiger

Simon woke up and rubbed his eyes, looking around. All around him was dead brown grass, and at his feet a rock held down a piece of paper. The dusty road led over the hill, and the sun began to hurt his eyes. He sat up to peer at the paper, dust falling as he did so.
-*-
The ink was still wet, the cursive type flowed across the page like the wisps of a long forgotten wind. The flourishes of some secret hand caught his attention, but so much as the declamatory prophetic voice of what he read:
'You will travel the road, and you will travel yourself. You will travel to me..until then, you cannot know who you are'
And thus Simon, ignorant of his heritage, his purpose, even his appearance, stumbled forth into the haze that hovered sublimely before the horizon. He stumbled forth into his own life, not knowing where it might take him, or what he would find. Someone would have the answers.
-*-
Reflecting on the twisted path that lead him here, Simon traced the imprint of time back in his mind. There were a few people who could have changed the course of events, Brigette the most likely of them.If only he had walked out of that Cafe three years ago, and thrown that white rose into the steel mesh jaws of a city garbage can, it was the rose that started him down this trail...the Rose.
-*-
Simon cleared his thoughts and began walking the path that he knew would bring him to no other than himeslf. But who was "he"? He had wandered through life asking himself this same question with no memorable answers. He kicked a small pebble across the path and watched it bound into the knee high grass. As the pebble wound its way through the menagerie of twisted blades, such did Simon'd thoughts wind thier own path through his mind .. seraching for the kernel that he had planted to long ago that led to this barren valley. And in all truth it had begun long before Brigette, but she was the turning point.. the crucible, that tipped the balance of sanity.
-*-

ngdawg

Simon woke up and rubbed his eyes, looking around. All around him was dead brown grass, and at his feet a rock held down a piece of paper. The dusty road led over the hill, and the sun began to hurt his eyes. He sat up to peer at the paper, dust falling as he did so.
-*-
The ink was still wet, the cursive type flowed across the page like the wisps of a long forgotten wind. The flourishes of some secret hand caught his attention, but so much as the declamatory prophetic voice of what he read:
'You will travel the road, and you will travel yourself. You will travel to me..until then, you cannot know who you are'
And thus Simon, ignorant of his heritage, his purpose, even his appearance, stumbled forth into the haze that hovered sublimely before the horizon. He stumbled forth into his own life, not knowing where it might take him, or what he would find. Someone would have the answers.
-*-
Reflecting on the twisted path that lead him here, Simon traced the imprint of time back in his mind. There were a few people who could have changed the course of events, Brigette the most likely of them.If only he had walked out of that Cafe three years ago, and thrown that white rose into the steel mesh jaws of a city garbage can, it was the rose that started him down this trail...the Rose.
-*-
Simon cleared his thoughts and began walking the path that he knew would bring him to no other than himeslf. But who was "he"? He had wandered through life asking himself this same question with no memorable answers. He kicked a small pebble across the path and watched it bound into the knee high grass. As the pebble wound its way through the menagerie of twisted blades, such did Simon'd thoughts wind thier own path through his mind .. seraching for the kernel that he had planted to long ago that led to this barren valley. And in all truth it had begun long before Brigette, but she was the turning point.. the crucible, that tipped the balance of sanity.
-*-
To understand where he was headed, Simon needed to reflect on where he'd been. It was an innocuous enough meeting. The public library was having a showing of some local artists. He was taking his time looking at the small bronze statue, studying its rough lines, coming to his own conclusions outside of its name, Dark Kiss. Doesn't look dark or like a kiss, he thought. As he leaned forward to read the artist's name, she walked up behind him and, to get his attention, cleared her throat.
"Do you like it?" she whispered. "I know the sculptor personally". And at that, she giggled slightly and put out her hand. "Brigitte Monson, in case you can't read the plaque. I'm the artist of this piece. One of 5, but I only brought this one to the show".
He took her hand. It was soft and tiny, but a sculptor's hand nonetheless.
"Simon Pritchard. One of five, you say? Are they all this....abstract? I don't see why......"
She interrupted and while he first thought, how rude, he found himself listening intently. Her blue eyes seemed to shine as she explained, " All are based on our basic senses, but more in how they are used as opposed to what they are. So this", she motioned to the statue, " would be the sense of touch."
As she spoke, a server approached with a tray of wine. They each took a glass and wandered over to some sofas in a corner. She continued to tell him about how she saw the senses used in relation to love, hate, despair. He realized he was much more interested than he thought he would be. Or was it the sound of her voice, the shine in her eyes? No matter, he let her talk.

__________________
Don't blame me. I didn't vote for either of'em.

amonkie

Startled, Simon snapped out of his reverie as his ears picked up a human sounding voice .. he really DID need to stop thinking so damn much. Looking around for the source, he did a double take as he saw a wolf had joined him at some point walking along this road - the sun was already starting to creep further westward, had the day already gone by so quickly? The lack of shade and restless sleep must really be getting to him... for it seemed the voice was coming from this wolf. Again the wolf asked ( the mouth was moving, but this really WASN'T REAL!) , " Did you lose something? "

__________________
Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna

analog

Simon looked down at the animal, its dark eyes peeking out from within its furry face. Gazing back up to the skyline, Simon chuckled a bit and muttered, "yeah, my fucking mind."
"Hell of a thing to lose," the wolf said, walking beside Simon as though they were friends taking a stroll, "but maybe it's for the best. Were you really using it?"
Simon ignored the words coming from the wolf, and chalked the experience up to sun exposure. He was making up talking wolves, an old love interest, a past... he so desperately wanted a past. One memory- anything, really. To entertain himself, he turned to the wolf once more, asking, "you don't happen to know where this road goes, do you?" The wolf replied, "I can't tell you where your life will take you, any more than I can tell you where this road goes. Is your future a place? Is it the name of a town on a map? Or is it you, in that place, interacting with it, as who you are?"
Simon shuffled a bit as he walked, kicking up dirt. "That's all great and poetic, but I don't know who the fuck I am."
The wolf stopped walking, and looked up at Simon. Simon saw him stop, and looked back at him, puzzled. "Are you telling me that you're nothing more than a name? Is there no value to a person by themselves without a moniker? I can't walk with you if you're going to be so blind to the world. You've lost your mind, as you say, but you expect a name to tell you who you are? You're Simon, aren't you?"
"Of course."
"Are you really? Or is Simon Pritchard just the name on the letter you found with you?"
Simon looked away from the wolf. He was angry, confused, hot, and conversing with an animal. Nothing was adding up. He took out the letter and unfolded it. The heat, the sweat, and the wet ink all came together in his back pocket to create a very beautiful, but totally illegible mess of black smudges on the paper. The name at the top was completely wiped off. He now wasn't even sure of the name he'd read so many hours ago before he embarked on his journey.
"Forget the name, human. You have no use for it, anyway. It doesn't change who you are, and it won't make you be anyone, either. I could call you Bruce. There. Feel anything? Is your world coming together now? How about this... this road leads to a town called Tryehoek. Does it all make sense now? No. Knowing where this road goes does you no good at all. So stop asking stupid questions."
The man decided to keep calling himself Simon. It seemed like a good name, anyway, he might as well adopt it. He started walking again, the wolf following him, and wondered why an imaginary wolf was giving him so much shit.
"They're not stupid questions," Simon finally chimed in, "I'm just pissed off and want to know what's going on."

"Well, I'll start by saying I made up the town of Tryehoek. Truth is, I have no idea where this road goes. I'm from the other end of the road from where you started, from where I found you."

"You... found me?" Simon wondered why a wolf would have any interest in an unconscious human, other than as a free buffet. He suddenly realized he's glad to be alive. He thought this over a moment, and was curious why that hadn't occured to him previously.

"Well yeah, why do you think i'm following you? I've never been down this way, thought you'd want some company."

"Ok... that's cool I guess. But I can't just call you wolf, so what is your name, then?"

ngdawg

"Guess", the wolf curtly responded. Simon glared down at him.
"I'm really not in the mood for games, wolf. I'm lost, I'm hungry....I don't know my own name for sure and you want to play guessing games." They walked in silence a few minutes more. So many fragments of thought swirled through Simon's mind, not the least of which, why was he walking and talking with a wolf? How much of this is a dream? Or is it? Where would they end up? And with whom? Brief flashes that he didn't know were from memory or dreams. A white rose? The faint laughter of days long gone or dreams long lost. Talking to a pretty girl. Ah, he hoped that was not a dream at all.
The sun felt warm on his neck and instinctively he knew evening was approaching.
"North. We're heading north, right?" Simon felt some small satisfaction that at least he knew the direction.
"Guess my name yet?" wolf retorted. "And yes, we're heading north, Simon." He stopped and stared up at this lost soul he decided to accompany. He shook his head in dismay. "Sometimes," he whispered, "you really bring out some nasty little tests for me." His eyes focussed back to Simon's face. He looked as lost as he truly was. Probably once pretty good looking, wolf thought. Simon sensed the wolf's stare and returned his own.
"Brigham. Don't know why, but that's your name." He began walking again, a little faster than before and feeling rather smug about his guess. "Now, we really need to find some water and I'm thinking, Brigham, that since you're the natural animal here......"
The wolf had to almost run to catch up, quite surprised he was at the sudden
change in Simon's mood. Might be hope for the boy yet, he thought. He hoped so. This was his last test and he needed to do well.

__________________
Don't blame me. I didn't vote for either of'em.

amonkie

Simon warily eyed "Brigham" as the sun finally sunk behind the edge of the horizon, and he was hesitant about closing his eyes in the presence of this wolf. He WAS a wolf after all... and he must be as hungry as himself seeing as they had found nothing to eat today. He shifted his shoulders and sighed as he resigned himself to a night of walking, and finally decided to ask what had been eating on his mind all day... even though he was still alive.


" So.... am I the first human you've met? I mean... are you normally this friendly to us? I'm just ... uh, I think it'd be a good idea to cover as much ground as possible, and not waste the night hours" Simon hurriedly let out, then picked up his pace as he awaited the wolf's response.

__________________
Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna

analog

The wolf slowed down a bit and wandered nearby onto the grass. Simon decided to follow, assuming there was a reason for the diversion.

"Actually," the wolf said as he lowered himself to the ground, resting his head on his paws, "i'm really tired. So let's get some rest, hmm? Tomorrow is another day."

Simon was a bit taken back by this, and knew he would spend the night restless anyway. He looked around, however, and realized that the wolf had been leading, and he couldn't see much of anything. The moon was taking the night off, it seemed, and the stars provide little illumination out in the barren country where he found himself.

"So," he thought to himself, "I can't go anywhere even if I want to. I can't see shit."

Tired as he was, Simon decided to give in to the night. The wolf had his chance earlier, and he didn't take it. Hunger or no, he believed the wolf meant him no harm. As he pondered the events of the day and his conversations with the wolf, the night took hold of him, and his eyelids fell.

~~~

"WAKE UP!" yelled the voice of the wolf, startling Simon awake. Simon stood upright instantly, his heart racing. It was day, and the sun was staring him in the face.

"WHAT??" he yelled back, frantically, still trying to get his bearings and wake himself up.

"I've been trying to wake you up for like 10 minutes, sleeping beauty. I even chucked a rock at your head, nothing. So, I started yelling."

"So what's the emergency?" Simon asked as he tried to calm his breathing.

"No emergency. I was awake and bored. You were still asleep. Besides, it's late morning, we need to be going if we're going to make it there today."

Finally tired of the guessing games and the riddles, Simon leaned way down to the wolf and spoke directly to him, face to face. "Where... are... we... going?"

"Don't play tough guy with me, mister. I'm a WOLF. You got that? WOLF."

The wolf started walking away, calling for Simon to follow him. "Come on human, we got walking to do."

ngdawg

Simon sprinted to catch up. He was passed the point of hunger to where it just didn't matter any more. The deep sleep renewed his energy, it seemed, and he realized he hadn't felt this good in, well, he wasn't sure how long it had been any more.
"Brigham? Why are you really here with me?" Simon didn't look at the wolf but stared straight ahead as they walked in the sweet morning air. "Why was I where I was when you found me?"
"You slept quite well for a human sleeping next to a wolf, didn't you?" Simon became aware that the wolf almost never answered his questions directly and it was beginning to be an annoyance. "Think, Human. You dreamed, everyone does. Your energy's back, even with lack of food and water. Remember the dreams, those will tell you what you need to know."
Simon tried to remember dreaming. But the vision just ahead startled him and he yelled in excitement. "A lake!"

__________________
Don't blame me. I didn't vote for either of'em.

amonkie

Forgetting about the wolf, Simon took deep breaths of hot air as he ran towards the lake, praying it was not just a mirage crafted from hunger and hallucinations. As his toes met the wet ripples lapping at the muddy shore, he laughed and dived in, cool water rushing in over his head.

__________________
Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna

silvertiger

That first plunge into the cool water was like the shedding of an old skin. He could feel the rejuvinating effects that the water was having and reveled in it. To his surprise Brigham followed his suit and jumped head strong at the life giving essence. yipping and paddling along side Simon for what seemed like hours.

When they had thier fill of water, Brigham bounded out and shook off, while simon sat upon a rock and wondered if he had ever looked mroe like a rasin than he did now. His clothes were dripping wet, but the sun's blistering heat would soon remedy that. Simon looked around to see what had become of this mischevious wolf. "Brigham ... where have you gone off to you mangy mutt?"

Simon decided that even wolves need a little "private time" and chocked it up to a call of nature. While he was waiting for his talking puppy, he began to look around and see this place and see what he had missed on the mad sprint to the lake. Trees peppered the landscape, but only for a short distance as the water of life was not flowing through a valley, but gathered in this barren land in this lake. He saw insects fluttering and tiny predators cathing prey.. which reminded him that he had not eaten for almost 2 days now.

After traveling with his furry companion thus far, the absence of his flighty new friend gave Simon cause for alarm. He called out again with slight disdain in his tone "Brigham!!! ... Where are you?"...

ngdawg

"I'm still with you, Human." The voice came from behind Simon and he spun around to see. But there was nothing. A feeling of panic rose within and Simon realized he may very well have been hallucinating this wolf with a voice. Suddenly the dread of being left alone took hold.
"This isn't funny, Brigham," Simon whined. "Please come out. Please." He sat down and buried his head in his folded arms. Memories fleeted by of being abandoned. Somewhere. Then they faded away. Simon picked his head up, sighed and looked around, but there was no sign of his companion. "I'm not ready, I'm not", he whispered.
"Yes, you are, Simon." Brigham slowly made his way and sat beside the exhausted man. "You had a memory, Simon. One, but it's a start. Sometimes we need fear to jolt memories we thought we lost." As he stood up again, Simon stared into his eyes and realized these were not the eyes of a wolf.

__________________
Don't blame me. I didn't vote for either of'em.

analog

They were like the eyes of an old friend. They were deep and compassionate, and they seemed to care, even though they were attached to a wolf.

"Don't stare at me, human. It's creeping me out." Said the wolf.

"Could you please stop calling me 'human', wolf?" he snipped back, obviously a little agitated.

"Alright, alright, don't get your shorts in a bind. Speaking of shorts in a bind, how can you stand all that wet clothing hanging on you?" The wolf asked as they started back towards the road, noticing his shoes squished with every step.

"It'll be dry soon. I'm not worried about it." Simon answered, wringing out his shirt"

"That's one thing that always confused me about you humans."

"What's that?" Simon asked, feeling the hard asphalt beneath him once again.

"Well, your obsession with emotions. You worry all the time. You're constantly afraid of something. You live your lives in fear of each other. You spend more time and money developing ways to end lives than save them. That just sounds like a species doomed to failure."

"Well humans have been around for a very long time." Simon said, unsure of what to say about the fear he knew he, too, felt.

"Oh, yeah, such a long time. You think my wolf ancestors weren't around before your human ones? Regardless, the point is that in the last few decades, technology has grown at an incredible pace. Now, more than ever, you had the ability to put real technology towards real problems. Disease, famine, thirst, all the basic necessities of life. Sure, you've spent lots of development on medical advances, but as a group you spent a lot more on trying to best everyone else in the killing arena. Didn't you think that was going to catch up with you eventually?"

"I don't understand what you mean."

"I mean, " the wolf continues, "that the humans signed their own death certificate when they chose to take the planet they were given, and the lives they were granted and treat them so poorly. You lead a good life though, Simon, which is why you're here. You were kind and fair, you were honest and good to your fellow man."

"I think, " Simon interjected, "the sun is getting to your wolf brain. I don't even know how my life went, let alone you. I could have been a total asshole... You don't know me."

A minute or two passes, and Simon is deep in thought. He looks around and realizes how boring the scenery is, but it gives him a feeling of peace and calms him. He thinks back to the lake and how good that water tasted to his parched mouth.

”I wasn’t thirsty, though…” he thought, looking down at the wolf quietly walking alongside him. ”And I’m not even really hungry… I mean, food sounds good… but I’m not… hungry… it’s been days since I've eaten, though…”

“What are you thinking about, Simon?” the wolf says, almost startling him from his thoughts.

“Nothing… nothing. Just stuff.”

“Wow. Deep.” The wolf snorts, laughing a bit.

“How come… how come you said emotions confused you? Do they not confuse you anymore?”

The wolf stops walking. Simon realizes he’s stopped and turns to face him.

“Try and remember something for me, Simon.”

“Yeah, ok, I haven’t been able to remember anything so far, this should be good. Shoot.”

“What have you always believed happens to people when they die?”

Simon is at first slightly puzzled by the question, but then immediately more confused that he remembers the answer.

“That… if people died and remembered their lives, they would never rest because they’d do nothing but second-guess all the bullshit they went through.”

“Simon, do you think that all humans have the same thoughts on how it is to die?”

“No, definitely not.” Simon laughs, thinking briefly of all the different beliefs he’s run into over the years, not realizing they’re memories coming back to him.

“So let’s say for a moment that everyone on the planet died, what do you think would happen? Would everyone get just the one master mold of ‘life after death’, for whatever belief ended up being correct, or do you think they’d all get the customized version of it that they believed in?”

“Well, it’d be nice if everyone got their belief. Everyone has a different idea of what perfect is.”

A cool breeze plays down the road and makes Simon take a deep breath, feeling it refresh him from the heat. He closes his eyes and outstretches his arms.

“Awesome, I was just thinking how nice it would be to have some cool wind.” He says to the wolf.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if the world was your whim?”

“Yeah, it would be.”

“The mind is an incredible thing, Simon. Sometimes people don’t remember things because they couldn’t yet accept them.”

“What couldn’t I accept?” Simon asks, puzzled.

“That you’re dead, Simon.”

When he opens his eyes, he’s back at the porch of his house. He feels a hand on his arm.

“You always said you’d sit with me for forever…” comes the voice from behind him. He turns to see his wife sitting there, tears streaming down her face. Without thinking, he sits next to her and holds her tightly. He remembers her, he remembers why she’s crying. He suddenly remembers everything.

“I love you.” He says to her, wiping away her tears.

“I love you too.” She answers back.

Simon looks down to see the wolf sitting there. Suddenly, a blinding white light consumes everything around him, and he loses all feeling. He no longer feels the bench beneath him, or his love in his arms. He looks around and can only see endless, brilliant white. He turns a bit and sees the wolf sitting just a few feet away from him. Simon thinks back to their conversation on the road just before he was brought back to his home and his wife, and no longer feels confused, worried, or scared. He feels happy, and content.

“Is this…” Simon begins whispering to the wolf.

“Heaven? Paradise? If you have to put a name on it. This is just where everyone goes. It’s just the next step after you die. Call it what you want.”

“But- “ Simon begins to speak, but he stops abruptly when he feels a hand on his arm again. Looking back, he sees his wife sitting, smiling, on the same bench from the front porch, and he’s back there with her again.

Simon turns to the wolf and smiles. “Nevermind. ‘Heaven’ isn’t a good enough word anyway.”

The wolf lets out a laugh and walks off into the distance. Simon sits down and once again leans against his love, feeling the warmth of their embrace. He takes her hand in his, and they both sigh happily as a cool breeze go by.

analog

-----------
I hate to see a good story die without an ending... so i've put this one to bed with my own since no one posted to it in a long time... let me know what you think.

ngdawg

Works well. The journey of purgatory or limbo, if you will. supposedly, we all pass through it on our way to a final destination.

__________________
Don't blame me. I didn't vote for either of'em.

UnpreDictable

Simon woke up and rubbed his eyes, looking around. All around him was dead brown grass, and at his feet a rock held down a piece of paper. The dusty road led over the hill, and the sun began to hurt his eyes. He sat up to peer at the paper, dust falling as he did so. How long had he been there? Where was everyone else? He once again looked at the paper under the rock. He carefully took ahold and lifted the rock. He quickly scanned it's contents anxious to see what it said. He lowered his eyes and let out a long sigh. "Why does it always end like this? Didn't I do my best?" Many things ran through his head as he contemplated yesterdays events.
Simon had moved into a small town. The folks seemed normal, happy and friendly. He had only been there for a short time and knew almost all that lived there. He chose to work at the local store for that was were he could meet the most people. Then one day there was a town get together. Everyone was in a cheery mood and had warmly welcomed him. Simon looked around at every face saying their names and smiling with a nod for hello. He had finally felt like he belonged and could be accepted for who and what he was. He slept very well that night and woke in a good mood. It was almost the weekend and he was planing a trip to the top of the nearest mountain where he could refresh himself for a new week. At closing time he quickly finished sweeping the floor and put all the equipement away neatly where it belonged. Said goodbye to everyone and walked home. Simon pulled out his worn out backpack and laid it on the narow bed. He carefully moved about the room selecting the things he would need for his trip. He swore this time he would be allowed to go home. If he missed one thing then he would have to start all over. One blue shirt, a faded pair of jeans, 2 pairs of socks, underware, headband, water bottle....... Those where the easy things. Simon opened the top drawe in the little desk and pulled out the map of his home. Careful not to crumple it, he put it in the side pocket. Next he went to the closet and took down a golden robe and headband to match. In a small box on the top shelf held the most important pieces, a ring and wrist watch. Those he put in last, picked up the pack and walked out the door. Hopefully this would be the last he saw of the town, to fail would mean to move to a new town and wait for the next opening. He was lucky this time to find a small friendly town. He walked up the path toward the top of the mountain and as expected he was joined by others he knew. Others that like him, where trying to get back home. Slowly in his mind he looked at each one as they joined him on the road. All of a sudden he opened his eyes! He picked up the note and reread it. "Simon, did you really think you could go home?" Every time the note said the same thing. How many times had he seen that face? How could he have followed him? But those eyes, the same eyes he had seen in the trial. It couldn't be! They said coming to this planet he would be protected. Simon started to panic as he realize he would never see his home planet again. He needed to run and hide. It had all been a ruse.

UnpreDictable

Lol........ok. I was tired and guess I didn't read that it was a continuation. My bad.

amonkie

Don't worry Unpredictable - nice to see a twist on the same beginning! And welcome to the Lit Forum ...

__________________
Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna