The Wolf

The Wolf

A Story by W. C. Forrest
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Random Ramblings

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Its was a long wait, a tiring age. The hope had but ceased to exist and I was ready to surrender to the flowing of time; to embark on a new journey of solitude. I was a lone wolf, untamed and running wild on one last hunt of a lifetime. I was on a chase and with every step gaining momentum for an idea had clawed its hold on my mind as if crystallised. Then you came out of nowhere and my nimble strides slowed to a halt. Your regality was a match to my savagery. I was a proud hunter with no inhibitions but you would swoop for a kill with an assassin’s skill, in sight yet invisible like a shadow. They admired my fierceness but you just were; graceful and beautiful. A doubt burgeoned inside making all the grand ideas vulnerable to your ravishing presence. The lips of the snarling beast curled back revealing fangs in frustration. This was not a part of the plan, no one was to dissuade the beast from the hunt and here I was agitated with doubts in my mind. I was slowly being caged with vain abstractions. The mind continuously screeching that it was all fleeting, it was temporary and yet I was frozen with helplessness. I wished not to speak but talk, not to hear but listen; and all you heard was a growl while you looked at me with eyes unblinking and unconcerned. For hours I stood gazing at you wondering if there existed a time and world with different rules. All this time you sat there perched at the top of the world heedless of my obsession. Then just as quickly you flew into the clouds. Yet, I stood there staring into the sky thinking how it could ever be. After all, I was the wolf and you were the eagle.

© 2015 W. C. Forrest


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Added on May 16, 2015
Last Updated on May 16, 2015

Author

W. C. Forrest
W. C. Forrest

New Delhi, India



About
A voracious reader on a journey to realize his existential conundrum. An ardent follower of his whimsical conceptions who admires, savours and relishes finesse and virtuosity.The words 'Whimsical Conc.. more..

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