He’s sitting at the top of his tree. A perfect outlook on the city below. Stunning. Breathtaking. Indescribable. But not good enough. He has his notebook on his lap, his pencil in his hand. He has his camera around his neck, his bag behind him on the rail.
He looks out, lonely. He’s sad. He yearns for a familiarity. He wants to leave. He wants to go. But he can’t. His heart has gone somewhere else, his mind always trying to follow. He knows it’s there…this place his body yearns for. But there’s also something here.
He doesn’t want to miss out. He doesn’t want to regret his adventure. He wants to stay until he finds what he’s looking for. Then he’d leave, feeling satisfied. But when will that be?
“Hey…” A gentle voice comes from behind him as a hand in placed on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
He cracks a small smile, patting the hand. He is suppose to be fine. He is suppose to be enjoying his life. He is suppose to be out and about. But he can’t move. He doesn’t have energy. He doesn’t want to be there.
Slowly, he gets down and follows footsteps back inside with his things. He sets them down, staring at the master bedroom he saved for his masterpieces. They’re suppose to be beautiful…but he never sees it anymore.
He knows there’s something there he’s missing.