Allegorically:
I followed a pine scented trail into rugged mountains. It began sweet with the submission of “The Last Train” to my distributor. Accomplishment shined like a sunrise. I purveyed the land from my perch on a ridge. It overlooked a valley surrounded by hills and mountain painted with three main landscapes: massive granite walls and peaks, the forest, and the snow clinging to high crevices. The morning fog settled below and revealed more of the living carpet of trees. It was majestic.
My assumption was for a pleasant journey in nature’s splendor. That was not what followed.
I stood and took a long breath of the cool, fresh air before continuing on the trail down the other side of the ridge. Storm clouds were approaching. I was prepared for inclement weather, so I continued towards my planned campsite. I had been there before and had hidden years of my written treasures in a chest. It was easy to remember where I buried it. My back would face an aged redwood tree, and seven steps towards the granite-cradled lake at the end of my box canyon retreat.
Knowing my destination was one thing, getting there was quite another. My jacket was retrieved from my backpack and on before I went to meet the storm. I kept the head cover turned down until I needed it and its drawstrings that pulled it close around my face.
The winds picked up in an instant, considerably stronger than expected. The tears of the storm began to fall all around me. High gullies quickly accumulated torrents of runoff water, mud, and rocks. My path was eaten away before me. I could not turn back to my iron steed. A bird told me it was gone. My backup steed, and my brother’s iron horse had all vanished in a day. Only my wife had hers and she was on a trip of her own.
The treacherous way ahead was becoming worse as the minutes passed. From the crumbling ground came a cyborg that knew all my codes and dependence on cyberspace. Its hand sparked and flashed like a welder’s torch and suddenly it produced my laptop. The other gripped a tree. I thought it held tight for stability during the storm.
It did the inconceivable. It crushed my laptop in its powerful hand and threw it to the ground. Then it ripped the tree from the ground and slammed it down, destroying anything left of my link to Cyber World.
I was trapped and looking up at the towering cyborg. It reached for me and upon its touch, I was suddenly inside an unlit box. It wasn’t a coffin but confined me in a small cube. I could not stand, I could barely breathe, and my body was racked with pain.
*******
Celebrating was robbed from me. My rainy day savings vanished. Two cars broke down, one will never serve me again. My brother’s motorcycle starter went out in the absence of a kick-starter as I once had long ago. My laptop died, and my new laptop was delivered. That had the potential for a happy thought so I could fly again. Then the simplest setup projects failed at every turn.
I spoke with strangers who charged hundreds of dollars to fix the problems. The first program run on it to do an easy transfer and setup gave my new laptop a limp before it could even walk. Days passed into weeks. My car took three weeks to repair due to distant parts on order. My world crashed in around me and I could not escape. I was cut off.
Seasons come and go, and I hope this one is behind me. I finally proofed the formatted version of my book today, and it will be out in a matter of days at least on Kindle and Barns & Noble. I checked it on Adobe Digital Editions, which reads Epub. I trust I will see the sunrise again.
No comments:
Post a Comment