sacred pasture

ESCAPIST


It was an empty street. Perhaps because of the rain that madly falls from the reddish sky on a lazy Monday night. He stood there watching the water as it drains down the manhole. He puffs his cigarette and just take every smoke into his lungs. Puffing in, puffing out. Slowly, he rested on that shed. Listening to every bit of voice sounding in his head. In just a second, he was dragged into yet again another escapade beyond the reality he is with.

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Powdery sand of the shore, chirping birds on the trees and the harmonizing sound of the waves crashing relentlessly on his feet--- its so beyond where he is yet he feels so there. He walked across the shore while a sunset is performing enthusiastically on the horizon. It tickled his bliss and he watched it until its done.

He sat on the bench, just beside the tree. Grabbed a beer and plunged down to the resting minutes of escapism. He let the cool breeze of that evening serenade his mind. He chilled to the majestic sound of the waves by dark and sleep with the lullabies of never-ending fantasy.

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Just like any other fantasy that has never become so vivid, reality has grabbed him by his arms and brought him back to where he should be.

The deceitful rain had stopped, no more water draining down the manhole and ashes from the cigarette are all over his pants. He painted a smile on his face, grabbed his bag and started walking.