by James Kitson
© 1993 All Rights Reserved
His life started as he began his journey on the road. Even though he did not know it’s name he felt it’s twists and turns as he walked down the road. When his day were depressing, a cover of trees and clouds blocked the sun from view and a cold evil breeze ripped at his clothes as he clung to their warmth and protection. When his days were good the sun shone brightly along the road and a gentle summers breeze gently urged him on his trek. He had such days when he married and had his family and while they were with him his road was bright and shiny. For as long as they were with him the days of depression and loneliness were gone and he didn’t have to walk the bitter, dark road. But then his children moved away, the road got darker and darker as they departed and his life slowly lost it’s polite existence. Then when he had aged greatly with his wife the road became a dark and desolate highway as he went on his journey alone when she left him. For several days and weeks his road was dark and he felt lonely and forgotten in that desolate world. But then he realized that even though the road he faced now was lonely it did not have to be the dark desolate path he voyaged on now. He had had a lifetime of good roads and enjoyable voyaging and even if he had to carry on alone then he would be able to hold his head up high remembering when the road was filled with friends and family. So when he reached the end of the road and his traveling days were over he felt satisfied in his file for even with it’s ups and downs he had never strayed off the road because the voyage was too difficult.
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