March 15, 2012 - 12:54pm — Wetterhound
And the air was different, and the sky was different, and the birds were grandchildren and great-grandchildren of birds he once knew.
Had it been that long?
Had it been only months before his love offered her soul to the sky and was taken from this earth forever? Had it been only that short a time?
For days did he pray, did he scream, did he yell at those "gods", those deities that could do anything but bring her back.
For how long did he miss her.
For how long did he await her ghostly return, as she did months before, emerging from the wood, scared and scarred, to be loved again by him.
How long did he wait this time before realizing she won't return?
Before swallowing that reality like a dark sleeping pill.
The poor creature...a body unfit to die, with a mind that has seen far more than twice his lifetimes, now.
The stag shook his head, shook the small leaves, branches, dust, from his antlers.
He stretched his legs, the satisfying pop of his joints after so long in mindless hibernation of the soul.
And he emerged from the wood.
And his life began anew.
For alas, there is no solace for the living, and so the living