No one leaves their past without wondering what lay on the next horizon.
John’s thinning boot leather with its newsprint liner and a threadbare duster
on his back all hinted a portent of imminent suffering.
He found sleep by an oak tree and awoke under fog mixed in outstretched
branches. Vapors clouding his vision stirred uneasiness for the day ahead.
“Father … where should I go?”
Swearing his elder stood down the pathway, John blinked in hopes the figure was
real. With no one actually there to answer, the younger man pushed up from the
ground and continued his journey.
