Loneliness

Late in the afternoon, in a waterless landscape, a solitary figure struck upon a narrow gorge that could not be crossed.  The figure began following along the rim as shadows reached out from some nearby mountains and the wind sent uprooted things tumbling all around.  As hours passed, the figure drew crooked against the wind and the fierce gusts cried against the exposed rock.

At dusk, the figure slowly dissolved into an inky darkness that seemingly swelled up from the gorge.  Eventually, stars curved into a dome above and tumbleweeds swept across the open spaces before dropping silently into the black abyss.    

--Mitchell Hegman