He saw everything for the first time. Spread out before him, yes, the world was his oyster. He reached forth his hand, but unseen, as he should have known, was the wall. He could touch it, if he could just touch it. Everything he needed, the love, the comfort, the possessions, the knowledge.
The frustration didn't set in until later, but not much later. He took the time to soak it up, to breathe it in, to become accustomed to his surroundings. It was a relief. He would do things the way he remembered. He wouldn't be concerned.
There was a gentle shake and a sense of weightlessness. He began to smell laurel. He began to feel warmer. They watched. He blinked. He rested.
He was long on time and he went on without it.

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Matt_Hawk almost 16 years ago

I would make two editorial changes. Re-read with the third sentece "was a wall." And I would delete 'They watched."

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Matt_Hawk
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genres

narrative stream of consious

tags

frustration longing

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