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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1397530-Existenz-Non
Rated: E · Other · Death · #1397530
I think this is an epilogue. I am weary about putting it in the larger work. help me out.
         The last time the earth’s shadow appeared on the moon he abandoned his life, by strolling away a lonely and brilliant star. He never saw the eclipse; the clouds blocked his perspective. He knew it happened this eclipse behind the clouds, they all knew. He looked up and saw the clouds change from a sporadic black and grey to that wonderful red often written about.
         His hat fell off his head, the wind ejected it. Yes the wind blew his black massive fedora off his head, but he rejected it. The hat moved of its own accord, but he chooses to never need it again. Later alone, shivering in the depths of the weakest moment of his life he wishes for this hat, but that moment lasted for just a moment, and soon it passed.
         The next morning his brothers in study and language would talk about the genius that left them, a boy called Avram. Many wished aloud or otherwise that someone had told them he left. They would have followed him, men always follow Avram, they still do. The boys of his yeshiva would share his hat. Each took his turn wearing it while they studied those old brown books written in languages even older—dead words for the living.
                                                          …

      Avram continued learning, he learned how to order at the drive through, that was an easy thing to learn, but he also learned efficiency that too he rejected.
      He did not speak to people as he traveled the city. He already knew starting a conversation was pointless and dangerous here in New York City. At just fourteen Avram lived without a home. But there were books to read he never read, people to observe he never observed, and women to touch he never touched.
      He never touched.
                                                          …

      Upstate stumbling inside the forest he found a cave. A cold cave already inhabited by insects and some small animals too. Avram grinned at his new home, he could not live here as the jagged rocks that circled around him, but he could learn. He dropped a bag of books in a corner that like any of the walls around him were perfect and equidistant to the center.
      Avram left the cave sloshing the brown wet mud, each step stuck to the ground. One by one he brought dry wood to the center of the cave. Then he lit the fire with one match that he removed from his pocket. These matches once reserved for ceremonial candles now he used them to heat his home. He squatted. A line of insects formed each one marching into the fire, they screamed, he guessed.
      The smell of bugs burning hit Avrams nose, they burned blinked and died. Why did they each die? Avram asked. Then as quick as the question entered his head, the answer came. These animals, and insects were just another heard trudging to slaughter.
                                                              …

      A week later the books were read. A month later his madness grew and destroyed parts of his mind. Two months later he and his madness jumped out of the cave and ran deep into the forest. His feet crunched the earth, and after only a few moments running, his leg stuck to a bush of many flowers and many thorns. Out of a multicolored bush of flowers his leg attached itself to a lonely blue flower.
      The flower ripped away from the bush with little resistance, ripping back the cuff of his pants. And a pissed bee stung his thigh. He looked at the flower admired the dead bee.
      “This too is holy.” He said. Avram never said more than that since he left the cave. To the birds he screamed, “This too is holy.” To the grizzly bear he whispered, “this too is holy.”
      Entranced Avram walked past a tall black man dressed in a dark suit dark tie and a shirt devoid of color. Avram never saw a preacher before.
      “I envy you.” Said the preacher. Avram faced a rock knelt down and observed the rock beside him. A red fire ant soon crawled, really it was walking, on top of it.
      Avram smiled at the rock saying, “this too is holy.”
      “Yes it is” the preacher said. “I always wanted to live in the forest.”
      Avram crinkled his forehead stuttering he said, “So you should.”
      “I have obligations though, my flock and all.” The preacher said.
      “U-huh” mumbled Avram. A wolf yelped far away then another then another. Avram looked at them and said, “this too is holy.
      “You’re an odd one.”  Said the preacher. “Go back, they won't let you live. They won’t let you be.”
      “They can’t stop me.”
      “Yes they can. Please, they will kill you.” The preacher preached. Avram did not understand one man cannot kill another each slain man chooses too die.
      “Not even G-d could stop them.” The preacher said gearing up for a sermon.
      “Go away let us be boring no more.” Avram said. Hurt the preacher handed him a pamphlet, blinked and ran away. The pamphlet an appropriate yellow read as follows.
         “The Rev. Starts Preaching at Nine O’clock P.M”
Avram changed direction and walked toward the town, and the road. What is preaching?
© Copyright 2008 Danny Numar (needanap at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1397530-Existenz-Non