A Concrete Inferno

In the middle of the journey of our life I find myself astray in a dark, concrete city where the straight way is lost; I stand on a piss-stinking road lined with rows of terrifying, grey monoliths, and behind each of these I hear the tortured howls and screams of creatures, each of whom have lost their way in life.

The way ahead is littered with small scraps of hope — like faint halos of light on the ground — and although undulating, it seems straight, but each step on this dirty road is a parallax.

I stand and stare at the exit which leads to a white palace lined with trees, but I know the slightest movement will alter the fabric of time and space; here among the cries of forgotten souls who trawl this piss-stinking road another step becomes another journey, at each step the view is transformed, the monoliths shift, the road wends, winds, and undulates in unimaginable ways and sometimes the path is blocked by more grey, impenetrable, concrete towers; all I can do is stand and stretch out my arms towards the white palace before it disappears from view, knowing that if I move, I may never reach it — that is the futility of my journey.

© 2016 Occasional Dreams
In response to: Three Line Tales, Week Forty-Two
Image by Jace Grandinetti


Thanks as always to Sonya at only100words.xyz for organising and coordinating these three line tales each week.

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