Le Chemin Solitaire

For miles I walked that day, I walked and walked, not even stopping to take in my surroundings. The sky was grey, the air, filled with a wiff of despair. The heavens were Lashing down on me, my clothes were drenched, but still I walked. Mile after mile venturing on in search of happier times, no one was on this path, only me. I'd gotten used to it, the lonely feeling I mean, it's just me against the world, just me. I like my own company; there's no one to argue with, no one to let me down and no one to care for but myself.

For a minute I stopped and lifted my head, to take a glance at the world, to see this dystopia in which I was. In the distance there was a volcano, a volcano so ginormous you could not see passed it, a volcano spewing out its innards, lava was showering down on everything with its reach. Smoke and ash bellowing up into the grey abyss, it was quite a spectacle, but to me it just represented misery.

Not that far ahead of me, a few miles in front of that havoc-reaping, monstrous volcano, I saw something. There in the middle of the fields, in the middle of all the chaos and gloom, was a horse, a horse as white as the clouds on a summers day. Just grazing away, at the grass, under a tree, a naked tree, a tree that was completely starkers, not one single leaf. I started to wonder how? how on earth that horse survived in this dystopia, how? It was alone, completely alone and surrounded by this wretchedness. I felt like giving up, what was the point in resuming my journey?
I fell.
SMACK.
My head hit a rock beside the muddy path. Tears streamed out uncontrollably from my eyes, I touched my head, just above my eye it was, my temple to be precise. A puddle of blood had gathered, luckily the cut wasn't that big. Although at that very second I wished the rock had murdered me and the cut had been a gaping canyon from which I couldn't stop the blood, but it wasn't.

Some how I found myself on my back, my body lying on the path, whilst my head was resting on the dead grass, next to my assaulter, the rock. As the rain pelted down from the murky heavens, I thought of that horse in the midst of that horror, that misery. It too was alone, but it survived in the most wickedest of places. It lived probably hoping that one day it would all stop and that the sun and all the happiest it brings would once again bless the grass with its rays, banish the murky clouds and bring new life to that lonely tree. The thought then dawned on me, that If that horse could live here and survive in this dystopia, alone, then so could I.

Slowly I lifted my head up off the dead grass, my body carefully up off the muddy road. The path was now back under my aching feet and continued.

I walked, onwards in this world of gloom, this world of wretchedness, alone and hoping that someday just like the horse that happiness would find its way on to my path, Le Chemin Solitaire.