Dreamrail

The brisk January air in the early morning hour proved to be a blessing for William. A winter’s frost had hardened the soil, steadying his gait for the wary stroll into the unknown. The bitter chill served to keep his senses alert for his first solo venture outdoors since the accident five months ago.

William chose the back door to shield his inelegance from view of the neighbors. Fearful of losing his direction, he paced in a straight line away from the house. He wandered with uncertainty into the vast meadow that held so many memories of kites, games, even his first sexual explorations. Moving back into his parent’s house, his childhood home, had not been an easy choice.

He experienced a sudden awareness that the potting bench his mother had always used would be only steps ahead. Recollected familiarity with his surroundings attacked him in waves that wanted to buckle his knees, bring panic, cause him to turn and cower. Instead, he moved further along, cuffing the bench with a reassuring tap-tap-tap, and discovered in himself the courage that propelled him further into the meadow.

William envisioned the tall green grass bending in the force of a light breeze when the endless days and tireless romps drained him as a teenager. The ground, now rigid beneath his feet, reminded him that the grass would not be green today, and the breeze had become a gale. For the first time, he felt moisture coming to rest upon his face.

The ground, while still being firm with each step, seemed to have a cushioned layer spread upon it. William realized that it was snowing. He hadn’t appreciated until now how refreshing the soft, damp, crystallized flakes could be on his body.

William removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves to allow more contact with the cleansing particles that now enveloped his senses. He sat on the ground, touched the smattering of new snow, and realized that his green grassy meadow had been decorated with white fresh flower-like ornaments that would be so bright, he would need his sunglasses, if he could see.

He felt through the thin layer of snow to find the cane he dropped when he removed his coat. He found it nearby and rose to begin his journey back toward the house, hoping he had retained his bearing as he carefully sat straight down.

Tap-tap-tap, he felt the familiar bench, and knew he had decided his direction well. His gait grew faster and more assured. The weight he had carried over these months seemed lifted, left on the ground like his coat, released from his conscience like the cleansing of the snow covered meadow. In the brisk air on this winter morning he knew for certain he could venture through the strange lands that lay ahead.
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The End