by Daniel C. Tomas

Created on: September 01, 2008

An Endless Caricature

It was as if the lightning was ripping the sky in half; separating it with each of its strikes. The thunder followed less than a second behind making the scene even more surreal. He stood there watching it, his back against an oak tree. His eyes, green with a sly look in them were illuminated as the light flashed. He smiled as the thunder rumbled, almost as if it was tearing apart existence. He imagined it as best he could. Floating images danced in his mind. One of him holding a lightning bolt in hand, throwing it at the ground, making a colossal explosion. If there was some way to harness that power, he'd have used it. Not because he wished it so, but because in his dreams, he'd be like a God. He was sheltered from the rain, hearing it fall around him and the tree. His content smile kept him there; fascinated at the wrath of the world.

"Nature is beautiful," he said aloud. "If I could take its power as my own." He let his words end, as if hoping that they'd somehow finish themselves.

The storm resumed with continuous streaks of lightning and rolls of thunder as the uninterrupted rain fell steadily. He wanted to stay there until it was over. This show was just so stunning he didn't want to let it go to waste. For too long had he always ran away; this time he'd watch until it was over. Something inside of him said to outlast the storm and become stronger than it. His sweatshirt was damp along with his shaggy brown hair. The tree was helpful enough, but he'd still gotten wet. The thought occurred to him that this could have been worse. Another smile came across his face, this one more encouraging than the previous.

Somewhere during the storm, he sat on the moist ground, still watching the rain, thunder and lightning. It became like a lullaby, his head began bobbing up and down as he struggled to keep himself awake. I have to outlast the storm, he thought.

He stayed that way, fighting sleep, for about an hour. The rain lightened, the lightning ceased and distant thunder could be heard. A satisfied look came over him as his eyes closed. He opened them suddenly, knowing that the storm was not completely over. He continued watching the rain until it stopped. When it finally did, he let sleep take him by succumbing finally to its might.

"I win," he said as he slipped off into a dream.

He looked out on a long stretch of highway with nothing but a backpack in his hand, holding it limply, letting it hit ground as he took in the sight. The yellow dashed line ran as far as he could see of the asphalt, there was no end of it in sight, as if that was the entire world; one stretch of road that went on for eternity.

"Eventually," he said, "the road will have to come back." He turned around and saw another long stretch of road, seeming to be the end of the same stretch of asphalt. "Which way do I go?" he asked himself. "If I go down this way." He pointed toward the direction he was facing, "I'd just end back where I started." He turned around, "If I go this way then I'll just end here again.

"Even if that is true." He laughed. "What would the point of it be? There has to be something else out there other than a road."

With that he began walking down the road, lifting his bag upon his shoulder and taking the journey one foot in front of the other. He wondered if this was what Heaven would be likeif he ever got there, anyway.

"What would you do, Jake?" he asked himself. "Just keep walking, right?" he nodded his head in conviction and let his smile come over him again. "This is what I'd like to do," Jake said and let his feet guide him down the road. Walking his dream away.

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