The park streets were empty and havoc had ceased to exist along the long road home. The man walked home again, just as he had done back as a child to now. Thin trimmed glasses, gray hair, and a home as cold as it had ever been a loss of hope.
The man continued down the street of lamps to an old brick building. It was an ordinary house with a small front yard, white gate, and stone steps. It had a story though, a story yet to be finished. The man pulled his keys from his cotton jacket and twisted them slowly into the doorknob, as if to saver every moment of simple ordinary life. He stepped into the hallway, traced his fingers against the wallpaper of rosebuds, and continued on to the living room.
The man pulled through his thinning strands of hair and rested his aching back down into the comfort of a warm chair. The man settled more comfortably down into the cushions as the warm fire settled into an easy pattern. Sway,spin, turn,sway,spin, turn…. and so on until the resting home of the old man disappeared beneath his darkening eyes.
The man’s dream floated abnormally as if sleep itself was uninspiring to his restful mind. Visions though appeared across his flashing eyelids. Images of sand, and smiles shimmered and danced across nerves. Comfort with warmth without a fire blazing through the halls to keep away unwelcome shadows. A laugh though appeared in his so called dream. A crisp laugh of a child whispering in and out of view as they race through the meadows startled the man to tears, tears that he would soon find resting underneath his eyes as if waiting for approval to drop. The man startled, shook himself but could not depict his mind of the laugh or of the images at all. The laugh turned deeper and rose in language as the child grew older but never lost its cheerful ring. As the image formed from sound, a woman arose with a halo surrounding her broad shoulders to head.
She was sheathed in a blue robe with black hair that flickered with the flashing light to inspire a dark night of cloth and hair. Her eyes dappled in blue but never holding a straight color and skin the color of caramel and cream. She failed to walk forward from the light as the images of an unknown source took flight in the man’s mind. An idea of thought, knowledge, and finally the surrounding picture of WISDOM coursed through the man’s buzzing mind. A glossy portrait of himself was perceived in between his brain of choices. There lay a path leading back and a path leading forward. His face satisfied and controlled. The child’s laugh appeared again and the woman sheathed in dark disappeared with the images and thoughts of WISDOM with her.
At once a river’s flow took the place of the child and of f the old man was again. Thoughts were felt and discovered as the man found the puzzle’s piece. STRENGTH appeared next in the images surrounding.
Another woman appeared this one just as lovely as the last. She had warm brown hair with hints of gold fossiled between strands. Her eyes the same hint of color but with a golden gold instead of cool blue. She was dressed in red tinted robes with gold sewn into the outlining as if you could only catch a whiff with one eye. She was the same caramel color but held herself with a stronger strength then firmed with beauty. Pictures and flashes of debate sank into the man’s mind while he saw himself again but with sternness in his eye as the two paths up and down added with right to left as well. There were now four paths he had in his portrait and the image soon disappeared as well with the lady fading and nodding soundly into the night.
A rumbling rainbow then took form. Flashing colors brushing away the golden light to create harsh diversity. More and more pictures unfolded as it came almost painful for the man to breath. He heard no yell but felt it rumble throughout his chest to the top of his head.
The harsh colors soon faded though to yet another woman but different from the rest. The most noticeable part was her armor built of stone as if it weighed about a ton. The lady stood tall though with her chocolate covered skin quoting with her dark features. The eyes black but fierce and hints of color brushed across the pupil. She held a spear in her right hand and head in the other. The head gaspingly was his. A monotonous screech grew as the man was drawn closer to the eyes of the head. He could see no pain, weakness, or shame. He saw stiff COURAGE. Subtleness grew over him as he knew what was finally taking place inside his body. The warrior nodded as he flew from his brain to his body again.
His eyes opened for the first time from which had seemed a lifetime. The man did not gasp nor screech but gazed around the same warm fire, from the same home, back to a new man.