His vision is fuzzy, the long road to the finish line seems bleak and the skies are darkening. His legs, weakening, limping, struggling to move until they buckle under the weight of his own sorrow. There he lay, emotionless, motionless and alone. All that surrounds him is barron wasteland and all that fills his mind is the memories of good times past, and his dreams he still holds close.
Looking at this bleak picture, his fate looks sealed and final, and his days numbered. He had given up. What was the point on keeping on going down this long winding road with no destination in sight? The world against him, punishing him with every step he took.
Days past, then months, and he still lay still and calm. Mind still on fire, but not dead. His life not yet extinguished. One thing had changed however. The land seemed dryer, darker. The ground cracking and the only sound that remained was the sombre hum of the wind navigating through the branches of the one tree left in this baron wasteland.
While laying there, he had a vision, the first vision he had since his downfall. A bird.
A bird had come and perched on his arm as he sat on a bench, with bright green lawn beneath him and the sweet sound of the robins and the swallows filled the air. Where was he? He didn’t know, but the vision continued. He was joined by another bird, then another, and another. Soon he was surrounded by many birds, all decorated with beautiful features and painted the lawn with multi colour brilliance. The single bird perched on his arm gave him a call, a warning. He was confused at first and was not sure what this warning was about. Why was he being warned? What was the bird trying to say? He continued to listen to the bird as it consistently warned him. It then began to make sense.
He was in danger.
His vulnerability had left him open to danger. As quickly at the vision had begun, it stopped and he woke up. Still laying he dazed into the never ending horizon of the wasteland he had found himself trapped in. There were multiple fuzzy shapes in the distance that were getting closer but his vision had still not cleared so it was hard to tell what they were. As they came closer, their shape had begun to sharpen and it became clear what they were. Four of them stood around him. They stopped and looked at him. Almost laughing at him as he lay there powerless. They circled around and spoke to eachother, nothing he could distinguish. They kept circling and circling and their muffles got louder and louder.
Then, as if something stopped them dead, they fell to floor. One by one they hit the ground with force as the wind was taken from their wings. Vultures. They were vultures.
As the last one hit the floor, he began to move, the first time in months. He moved his leg, then his arm, then he moved his head to look up at the sky. Confused, he saw the sky breaking, a huge rift in the middle of the dark and dense atmosphere above him. A bright light shined through as the sky continued to split, and after a short while, the light filled the sky.
He pushed himself upright and began attempting to stand up, after a few times and a few falls, he prevailed and stood on his feet. As if he was a new born horse, stumbled around but remained upright. He gazed into the bright sky once more and was still confused as to what happened. The man then fell and found himself falling into a bench. He looked around and saw green grass. Leaf rich trees swaying with the gentle summer breeze. People walking past him full of glee and joy. Children running and playing on the vast fields that surrounded him. It soon occured to him that he had finally reached his destination. He was home.
He thought about the torment he had gone through. The walking, the endless tiresome walking, to the fall, to the vision, and to the vultures. Those damn vultures. Never again would he trust the vultures that came circling during his darkest hour.
Still sat on the bench, a bird landed on his knee and looked up at him. It was the same bird in his vision, but this time was alone, and silent. No more did he need to warn. He had won.
The vultures were no more.