Ryan E. Marienthal
A group of three, oft secluded. They seek to overcome the commonplace, the irrational gatherings that touch the hearts of only the social sinners. Those who greet each night as a forgettable link of a rusted chain, cast away from any meaning or usefulness, how they shy away from an expansive life. These three men see the momentum of their hearts as a ship sees wind, through stormy seas and blissful adventure they have not but their sails to push them forward. Lost in a seemingly endless pursuit, our brave trio acknowledges the inner despair that seems to pursue them at every turn, thus they seek an ocean devoid of turmoil, a reprieve from the unpredictable; comfort so to say. On this week, a sacred week that could very well bring a new beginning, they accept an exodus from a troubled past. The invitation happens to take the form of a small letter, thick paper stock, gold accents, a truly lavish affair. Their old world sensibilities delight in holding their ticket to salvation, perhaps they will have it framed and display it as a gravestone to the life they wish to leave. One of them rejoices “We must attend!”, the other “I cannot wait”, and the third “Sound’s lovely.”
The day of the event is today, the beginning of the weekend, the first break these three have had in what feels like an eternity, each week seems to grow longer as their hearts grow heavier and weigh them down, lightness will soon take hold of their souls. As two of them arrive at the third’s house, they are struck with a horrible sign. Now these men usually leave communication by the wayside and prefer to trust the other's sensibilities, all are aware of the time and location, the plan forms naturally around that. However this sign, such a loathsome sign, has removed the idealistic excitement from this now duo’s souls.
“Sin!” exclaims the first man, “Insanity!” shouts the second. The taller man turns in anger, “Does he think nothing of us?! Was all of this comradery but a lie?!”, the other responds “His heart must have been untrue to us, were we deceiving ourselves to avoid his dishonesty?! We must have been ignoring his withdrawn heart and focusing only on his fabricated claims of love.” The two men shuddered, they had been seduced and betrayed. How could this man that they call a friend ever commit such an atrocity, they had suffered and cried, laughed in drunken exuberance with one another, but those memories are now but tales depicting their stupidity. “Well, we must prevail,” said the first man, “Such a heinous man should not be able to drag us back to shore, for we are fording the river that has separated us from all that is good.” And so they attended the gathering, and they found themselves in long awaited ecstasy.
The party’s glow faded, feeling the weight of their callous friend, they awaited the week’s beginning with morbid intensity. Their traditional Sunday meal always began with a game of cards at the third man’s house. As the deposed duo arrived they were surprised to see the customary table full of life, a pleasant preparation usually reserved for their rare extravagant celebrations. The meal had clearly been elaborately prepared by the third man, and as his embittered friends entered, they were struck with confusion. They were greeted by the loving smile to which they had become accustomed, and were brought into a tender embrace. “Oh how I missed you both” cried the third man, “please fill your stomachs and let us enjoy the evening.” The silence of the meal's beginning had broken before the second bite had entered their mouths. Though the first man had become accustomed to taking charge, his rational sensibilities had been overcome by rage and he remained silent, the second man in his oft repressed anger finally let out his frustration, “How could you leave! Do you care not for us! Does your heart remain true only to yourself!” the third man was stunned, his face bore an honest heartbreak that could be faked only by one who has escaped all truth. The second man continued, “You abandoned our new life for your own, how can we call you our friend after this? After a confused and calculating silence the third man responds, “I had no thoughts of abandoning you my dear friends, I merely heard my soul cry out, ‘I crave a reprieve’ and thus I had to follow. The peaceful water is the only place where I feel the weight of the world lift my shoulders. I was true of heart in following my desire to escape this chaos.” The two others looked at each other, realizing their presumption, as they felt the reality of the situation they could only help but laugh at the absurd doubt of their friend who was after eternally known as the “Gone Fishing Man”. At times we all feel our soul cry out in a similar manner, one that takes precedence over all the weight that we constantly bear, and calls for us to act accordingly. There is nothing foolish in trusting ourselves, or the ones who’s signs we inevitably read.