Weight
He shuffles his feet.
His backpack gets heavier, even though no weight has been added.
His face is in a scowl, his head is low.
He continues to walk, he is alone.
He shuffles his feet.
What’s harder, walking to no particular destination
Aimlessly shuffling to and fro
Never stopping for long
Always lonesome, never together, he treks on.
Or is it harder because of his backpack
Reminders of who he was before,
Sins he can never run from
But that he ignores?
He shuffles his feet.
His eyes narrow
He forgets where he is going
Why he is going there
What would be the point?
It all looks the same.
It all feels the same.
He shuffles his feet.
They come up to him, taking his bags
His weights, they take some out and hold it
Together, they move forward.
Together, They all move forward.
And that’s the meaning of life.
I really enjoyed the mood and depth in your story, it paints such vivid imagery.
It made me think how powerful it could be as a visual piece or c0mic.
I’m involved in visual storytelling, and your work caught my attention.
Let me know if you’d like to connect.