The night the Rhymer went whack

29

Your future may never be, but you can’t outlive your past.

It was just after dusk, yet Sharissa could still make out the shape of trees, roots and bushes while noticing the noises of insects and small animals she had grown accustomed to. Lush greens and dark browns surrounded her, and in a show of safeness, Straffe sat, resting on a rotted log. He motioned her over to join him, and once she sat, he removed his jacket and comforted it over her shoulders. “Rest,” he instructed, gently guiding her head to his shoulder. With Sharissa fast asleep, Straffe was now alone with just his thoughts. All gone, he resolved as he winced and shook his head in defeat. He was tired, but his body was too amped to rest and his mind too agitated to relax, all knowing that deep down, he knew someday his past would come home to roost.