The Pilgrimage - Part 3

It had been weeks since he had seen anyone. The woman in the wagon was the last. He didn’t think he’d see her again.

His mind began playing its own tricks now. Puddles held his reflection, he swore just a little too long. Inside them his green eyes - like peacock feathers – looked at him. They looked at him, like they were something else. Something not human.

What happens when someone loses his humanity? What do they become?

He thought he saw cat-men and horse-women in the sun’s refractions. The leaves began turning purple and orange. Neon pink, before a double take returned them to their pristine green. Things were flying in the sky. Things that were not birds shadowed the ground. But when he looked up, the sky was clear.

Time went on. He walked across another field. Through another valley.

He felt like he was an eternity away from yesterday. It was the day before the day before anything would happen. The Horizon was not around this corner. It was not around the next either, he already knew.

The scraps on the road let him know that there were still people. Somewhere, there were people like him. Had they gone through what he’s going through? Were they like him?

Was he still like them?

Another valley. Another hill.

Another week. Another month. How quickly they passed. How painful they were in the passing. Slowly the scraps thinned.

Was this what it felt like to be alone? Were the Dogs even here? It seemed as if they too had abandoned him. His flesh and soul no longer worth having. So wretched that even the vile would not have him.

His tears were yellow. He didn’t know why. He just watched as they fell.

Another hill, and a stream that ran parallel to the road awhile. Another huge tree. So large, that it blocked out the sun.

He sat. Fuck it. Just like that, he sat. He was a Child of Reubin, and his were the Promises. And he was going to sit. What did he have to lose?