The Boy's Journey

This was a story that I wrote just recently during the writing process of a new play. I almost immediately decided that it wasn't for that play, so it's now on it's own. I do recognize its similarity to the Running from the Sun one-sentence story - maybe going over that one for this blog put it back in my head...

The sky was cold and grey, the day the young boy decided to venture far from his small village, looking to discover what it took to become a man. He carried only his blade and a small knapsack in which he kept enough food for a single meal. Days and days of wandering through the deep woods left him exhausted and starving. He nibbled on fruits, he nibbled on plants, and he found pools of fresh water, enough to sustain him on his further journey.

(beat)

It was many days later before he found the edge of the woods, and he ventured off into the plains. Unsure if that which would make him a man was in the woods or plains, he decided to head off into the plains. There he found grains, and animals that moved in herds, and a running river to drink. And he followed the river through the plains.

(beat)

It was many days later before the river gave way to the sea.

Unsure if that which would make him a man was in the plains or by the sea, he decided to head off into the sea itself. And he feasted upon the fish, and learned how to make the water good to drink. He built a raft and headed out to the sea.

(beat)

It was many days later before the lands on the other side of the sea became visible. Unsure if that which would make him a man was on the sea or in the new land, he decided to land his craft, and explore the new land. Filled with new beasts, new grains, and springs flowing with fresh water, he wondered if this was the land where he would become a man. He ventured far into the new land, and discovered high mountains - and the challenge called him.

(beat)

It was many days later before he stood atop the mountain peaks. Unsure if that which would make him a man was past the mountain top, he decided to descend on the other side of the peak. He reaches the bottom of the mountain; scarred, and battered, his breaths were shallow, and he struggled to see the horizons. He found himself surrounded again by trees.

(beat)

It was many days later before he made his way through the woods, and found himself at his small village, standing at the doorway to his father’s house. He was worn, and bruised, his energy drained and his feet bled. He collapsed in the doorway of the now empty home, for all who had lived there had long since been gone. He crawled to the chair at the head of the simple wooden table, and pulled himself up into it. He placed his blade on the table, and opened his knapsack. He ate his simple meal, the one he had carried with him for days and days, sitting in his father’s chair, in his own village.

(beat)

And he was a man.