Elephant Gun

The river was flowing steadily and with little noticeable movement. He sat in the boat, the oars resting carelessly at his side; laying back he turned his attention to the sky above. Peering into an overwhelming sense of grandeur looming over, taunting him with an indiscernible beauty; he closed his eyes and took in the sweet breeze; a sense of staggering elation washed over him, he had been so consumed with the trivial matters. But is lost love so trivial?

He had found someone who was completely indelible from his mind and spirit, how would he move pass, should he move pass? Each breath the breeze took blew and echoed through the gaping void which had, up till recently, been filled with an inequitable sense of hope and atonement. He had always been so fixated on the notion of contentment; alas he had to watch it slip away again. It was likely for this reason he had been agonizing over this situation so thoroughly.

He wished to wake up, to open his eyes and realize it all to be a heinous joke played by an overactive, dark imagination. Solitude and angst were his new companions now.