Path to anywhere

Where the end meets the endless, there lies a plain of silence bisected by a road. Just one, thin path wending its way ever onwards… and a choice.

There was only the road, stretching on towards the horizon, carving its way through the knee-high brush. Grass heavy with seed nodded dozy heads towards the sky, where the sun hid behind clouds and leant the world a queer blue-grey hue. There were footprints in the dust. Shallow indents that marked the slow passing of feet, heavy with dirt and the detritus of a life lived with blood and ended with the same.

Augustus paused in his walk towards the boundless horizon, because he was no longer alone on the path. There was a small stout cage beside the dusty way, and from inside it a pair of liquid brown eyes stared up plaintively at him. A short tufted tail stirred the thin patina of brown dust that had settled on the floor of the cage.

The dog gave a small whine as he turned and walked away, continuing on alone towards the thin line of the horizon.

***

There was only the road, stretching on towards the horizon, carving its way through the knee-high brush. Faint mist drifted between the stalks, thin and useless, not familiar pea-soupers which could hide any number of things in their pearlescent depths. It was thin and watery, and all it his was the dim distance, which hid from view as if it was a coy girl playing games.

Jack stepped slowly along the path, the dirt made muddy beneath damp soles. It had been raining, it was always raining, but now the clouds seemed far away for all they still blocked out the weak sun. It hadn’t rained here for some time. The path was dry and thick with dust – no hurried feet passing through to churn it to choking dust or mud that sucked at the soles and coated the legs. Still, there were people around. A small dog tied to a post, hurried loops of rough hemp cord serving to secure it to the crooked pole, spoke to that. It raised an ear as he passed, one gummy eye opening to watch him.

But it raised no alarm, and so he hurried onwards down the path before its owners returned, though he didn’t know where he was headed.

***

There was only the road, stretching on towards the horizon, carving its way through the knee-high brush. The plain was vast and featureless, without mark or meaning or any sign of human habitation. It unnerved her, this emptiness. The cities were gone, and she couldn’t place herself within this empty space, below a dull grey sky.

Bonnie patted her hip, but it was still bare, and she felt unbalanced without her piece. A small stone skittered away beneath her boot, coming to rest at the side of a worn old crate. A few of the slats were missing, the rest in disarray and skewed, though still forming the rough skeleton of a box. Certainly still holding enough shape to contain their prisoner. With a cream patch over one eye and wiry fur that looked like a bottle brush had fallen into a mud puddle, the mutt was watching her like she might be a sucker.

But she wasn’t a sucker, or a bleeding heart, so she kept on walking towards the city that hopefully waited just on the other side of the horizon.

***

There was only the road, stretching on towards the horizon, carving its way through the knee-high brush. Nothing changed on this path; there was always the long grass, always the dirt wending its way through the field, always the footsteps passing by on their way to nowhere. The footprints faded once they moved on to everywhere. And they were always there, just beside the path, waiting.

Footsteps paused by the carboard box, and they looked up at this new wanderer. New face, old soul, all the same creases lines and stains plus the new marks of a new life. But this time there was pause. There were no tears, no remorse; the dog was not lifted from its box. But there was a catch to the voice, and the traveller spoke for the first time. And they listened.

And then the traveller walked on towards the horizon, alone.