Sunday Photo Fiction 2-28-2018

25 Mike Vore February 25th 2018
© Mike Vor

Sunday Photo Fiction

He liked to be alone. Walking through the woods, loafers loud on the plank walkway, the peace of the forest surrounded him. He’d grown up in a house surrounded by woods; had always felt just as home outside as he had in.

Life was different now. He existed in a concrete maze, nary a slash of green anywhere. There were parks, man-made, allowing just enough ‘wild’ to show through the smooth veneer of their civilized mask.

He had money, the fancy house, cars, a lovely wife, but none of it made him happy. Not even his wife and he’d thought he’d loved her long ago.

This wasn’t the way he wanted to live his life. This wasn’t who he was or who he was meant to be.

He stopped at the curve of the walkway, staring off into the woods, listening to the scamper of a squirrel in dead leaves, the rub of branches, the distant call of a hawk. His suit coat dropped to the ground, followed by his watch, wedding ring and wallet. He didn’t need them anymore. Wasn’t that person anymore.

Stepping off into the leaves, he walked away, disappearing into the distant line of trees.


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