My boots are nothing more than loops of leather circling my beaten feet, like brown bandages wrapped tight around my aching soles, our journey so far caked forever into them. I ignore the throb of pain I can feel everywhere and trudge on, my eyes on Christian’s back, my thoughts far away, of lazy Sunday afternoons and the immeasurable luxury of a shower, or a bed, or a roof, for God’s sake. We camped out underneath a rocky precipice yesterday and it felt like the Ritz just to be out of the rain. God I miss it all, all the yesterday’s I never knew to appreciate until their rich offerings were ripped prematurely from my ungrateful jaws. I guess I deserved it. I guess we all did.

  I blink away the nostalgia and find him so much further ahead than I am and I can’t help but think how? How has this not destroyed him like it has me? He’s so upbeat about everything. He geeked out about finding a can of baked beans a couple of weeks ago. Baked Beans. And all I could think about is how much I used to hate beans.

  Taste. Just another luxury I’ve learnt to live without. Hardly anything I put in my mouth hits my tongue before my stomach anymore.

  He looks over his shoulder and see’s how far behind I am and stops and waits with a smile and I feel my disgust at the world dissipate a little. The greens that surround me, in the tall grass and the still trees, they brighten ever so slightly. Become a little more bearable. I walk through a shallow river that’s separating us and stop for a second between the banks and let the water rush through what used to be my boots. Just for a second. I catch up, turning the soil to mud beneath my now soggy feet and, despite everything, smile.

  “How long ‘til we find them?” I ask.
  “When they want us to,” he replies simply. He takes my hand in his and we continue over the crest of the hill, another rocky field spreading out in front of us like a green whore and we take it, we’ll take it all, one step at a time.

I’m continuing my attempts at mixing things up here at Blame with this latest piece. It’s an ADAPTATION, if you can believe it, of a lovely little film my friend Hobbit Girl made called The Rebel Tribe. It’s pretty neato. I loved the script I read years and years ago and the movie was pretty sweet too – being the elitist tramp I am I of course can’t help but think hollywood raped it. But the vistas and scenery and cinematography and the writing and the characters are wonderful so I decided I’d try to do something I’ve never tried before. I am really excited to write part 2! Obviously, a huge thanks to the original creator and the title picture is actually a screencap of said film. Can you tell I’m geeking out a little? (geeking out a lot)


~ by Joseph Blame on September 10, 2010.

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