Roads: Another Departure


This too shall pass.

I found it hard to sleep. Worries chased themselves around my head. What was I doing, leaving alone in the company of a strange man? What if I couldn't make it this time either? What if I am wasting my life? What if it wasn't worth chasing anyway?

Frustrated and filled with a weary restlessness, I rose early and took some porridge from the pot on the stove. The innkeeper gave me my collected pay with some kinds words and a sad smile. Just another farewell, for him. It wasn't his first; wouldn't be his last.

My new companion came downstairs, layers of heavy cloth moving with his motion. His name was Mark, and before the journey he had been a guardsman in a city by the coast.

I told him about the plains, about sun-backed mountains and the pale coolness of baked-earth houses. I told him of the family I had left behind. I told him how my nerve had failed, and stopped when the tears choked my breath.

He was kind enough to turn away at first, and kinder still to hold me while I cried.


No sequels yet. Why not write one?

Write a sequel »

Comments (1 so far!)

Robert Quick

Robert Quick

Nicely done. This is the kind of writing I never seem to be able to get a handle on: summary when necessary and still manage to be touching with the right words.

  • #3019 Posted 4 years ago
  • 0

Inspired by (sequel to):

She was waiting for me the next morning, sitting at my table with a bowl of hot porridge and a packe…

Roads: Far From Home
  • Published 4 years ago.
  • Story viewed 13 times and rated 0 times.

All stories on Ficlatté are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 License. What does this mean?