One Last Attempt

February 28, 2003

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Enticing as it seems, I am resisting moderate dosages of mind-altering temptations. Not to say I haven’t indulged myself, for that would be a fib, but tomorrow arrives early and time must be mine to sleep off. On nights like this I am reminded of the way sunlight dances through tree branches alongside a busy highway. Vision is blurred, but the source of the reason for obscured sight is too inviting to deny. And so tonight as I look for my friends, I realize that they are spread across boundaries where I have never ventured, and I know that some of these kindred souls I shall never see again. I look to those closest in range to me and wonder why they have become strangers, but in that same thought I remember why. A three day distance between here and there has been simplified to one hour, but characters well-defined in my past remain extras now. I am losing my allies one by one. My life is no longer here, but here I must stay until I establish credentials worthy enough to claim. I face the hour by the minute, and as lines deepen on my tarnished face, I am reluctant yet hopeful to grow.

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist