The Cattle Call

To be locked in the arms of love. Is that not our entire search for meaning in this life? To be validated by the unconditional love of another, and have someone to shower your love upon,

but also to have the freedom to remain ourselves and stay true to who we are? But the real question is, dear brothers, is this really love, or is it just truth. Real truth. The thing we so desperately seek because it is wholly conceivable, but never attainable by man. Is it that

illusory thing we fight for our entire lives to find, only to perpetually be running one step

behind, and in the wrong fucking race? That obscure object of desire, never to be touched by human hands, and the absurdity of the whole damned circus that goes along with it.

Fate

"Where are you going?" the voice demanded, softly but with resonance.

"You know if you go that way..."

Vince sighed impatiently, he knew where this was headed.

"... if you go that way, you can't get back. Things will never be the same."

It was silent.

He stood for awhile, staring at his reflection in the window. Glancing carefully

from side to side, meticulously inspecting every hair, pore and wrinkle. Slowly

he raised his right hand to his face and rubbed his deep, sunken eyes with his

thumb and forefinger, rolling them back into his skull, letting his fingers gently

knead their way out and over the sharp contour of his cheekbones and back down

his broad chiseled jawline to his square bearded chin.

"Where are you going?" he said aloud to himself.

He stared a moment longer, then stood up and walked away. There was no one

around to answer.