Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Asphault


To many, the road led nowhere. Meandering through the country hillsides, cresting and dipping amongst mountains, rivers, and gorges.

His feet were sore. Bloody. His shoes had worn through to the soles of his feet.

His back ached - upon it he carried everything he owned.

It may have led nowhere for others, but to him, it was leading him somewhere.

Out of his dead-end town.

2 comments:

  1. It is amazing to me that you can capture the essence of someone's life in 5 sentences.

    Will you ever write poetry?

    ieyu, ilys

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