The Lights Far Away

Tonight, as he looked into the horizon, he didn’t feel it in a space far away. Instead, he felt that he could touch it with his hands if he stretched them a bit. The darkness of the night had effaced all boundaries, all distances.

An epiphany was all it took to resolve his conflicts, to provide them a name, a structure, a definiteness that would eventually lead its way into a solution, sooner or later. He felt blood drain into his head, into his eyes, so he could see clearly all the things far away, some lights he never had noticed, some clouds that had just appeared. Like the rain clears from the air its haze, the rush of blood into his head washed away his sorrows through nice, unruffled channels. For in that moment, he was the king of his world, and for that moment, he’d kill his the rhythm of his life.

As the blood solemnly withdrew from his head, to let his hopeful delirium wane away into a quiet sleep, he realised a pair of eyes, filled with derision, were looking at him from a corner in the dark. He let them be, and lay his aching body on the bed, to settle into what seemed like an endless sleep.

When he woke up, it was still night. The hands of the clock had dragged themselves sluggishly for two hours. His penis was erect. In a state of merciless discord, he looked around in the dark to invoke some sense into his situation, for he knew not where he was. It took a while before there was enough blood in his head to allow him to make sense of things.

He remembered that he had found a solution, or at least a way to it. He looked out the open window at the lights far away. The answer lay somewhere on the horizon, he seemed to recall. The darkness was imposing itself on him now, he felt his head would burst any moment.

Then he remembered. Indeed. . . He just had to stretch his hands out a bit, go for the horizon, and no matter how much they told you couldn’t reach it, it was there, close enough for those who dared. So, he puffed his lungs with the cold air of the night and looked to Athena for courage.

But when he finally gathered the courage to stretch out his hand and touch the horizon, he found it was as distant, as cold as ever. All he was left with was the hope of a calm morning.