Crossways and Up

Crime: Prose
Accomplice: The Bunnies and Kyhie
Possible Jail-time: A night in the slammer
Punishment: Slap on the wrist

In January of the tenth year after the turn of the century, he decided that he wanted to love as he was loved. He decided that there were places he had to go but had not yet. He decided that he wanted to improve himself. He decided he would live.

With his brown hair just cut, his tips painted purple and his passport renewed, he set out to explore. He went to the sea and asked how it was. It told him of the vast oceans, the ships who took the same routes and the fish who swam the same spots. It told him he was welcome to sit a while in the sun. It would be glad if he stay and never left. He thanked the sea but he didn’t think it would be prudent to lived in the water. He told the sea farewell and it waved goodbye as he left.

He went to the forest and called to the birds. In many voices they told him about their lives. They chattered to him, sung songs of love and agony about anything and everything they knew. They told him how the silly people hung their clingy feathers out to dry. They mentioned the beasts in the forest who stalked them. They gossiped about the hatchlings in the nest and they asked him to stay. He thought it was very well but he did not like the dampness of the trees.

After some wandering, he arrived at the tallest mountains and asked the shadows of the earth. They told him nothing but they showed him the shapes of the people who walked there and the beings that passed through. They danced under the fading day bright and fled in fear of night, in search of light. He lit a torch and held it aloft so they returned. A few came back and stayed till his torch went out. Then, he was alone and no one was there to ask him to stay.

There was nothing that could make him stay in one place. So he decided to return home. As he was walking, he saw a stone upon the ground. It was aside from all the other stones, a strange colour and shape. He picked it up and found that it was flaking. It told him that it wanted to be a present. So he put it in his pocket and continued on his way.

When he reached his home, he pondered upon all that hat happened and then reached a conclusion.

The sea was a society who did not believe in independence but in conforming to the norm. The birds were the egoistic masses who spoke more than listened. The shadows were the friends that only were friends when you had something they needed.

The stone was love. Love was supposed to be a present. It flaked off in little bits, catching onto your coat pockets, onto your fingers and staining them with its strange colour. It was an oddity meant to be shared and laughed over. Love wasn’t supposed to be kept in a box. It was supposed to be passed around until it crumbled onto everyone and stained their life with happiness.

He stood with a resolution and went out of his home. A child stood playing on the sidewalk. He called to the child and broke a piece off the stone. He gave it to the little one. The little one thanked him and ran off to tell her friends. Soon, there was a gaggle of children exclaiming over it. So precious was the little portion that they scarcely fought over it, each touching it once before it crumbled to dust.

A mother came out and called to her son. The boy ran up to her, hands outstretched to touch her face and plant a grubby kiss there.

The stain made its way from his fingers to her cheeks. She laughed and hugged the little boy. It was a sight that was pleasant to behold.

He realized then that it wasn’t what he did with his money and how much he knew that made him who he was. Rather, it was the people that he loved and the people who loved that made all the difference.

This, gave many a comfort to the man and he did return home, intending to love.