A shift in the wind

Hours slipped yet John could only think about the next wave of convulsing sobs that would surely come. Without the strength to storm away or even scream at his towering foe, he was reduced to the state of a newborn – needing more of something he couldn’t quite describe, not even to himself.

But as the sun was setting, a soft cool wind seemed to lift his face from his hands and melt his anger…some of it at least. Gingerly, he approached the scarlet giant. Before climbing the first rung, he looked back toward the house. If he took one more step, would he dare return? But more than the wind had shifted – his new resolve had been paid for with tears long kept inside.

With each rung, a different image of his mother came to mind, tugging his heart in yet another direction every time. As he neared the top, tears of a different kind threatened his vision and he blinked forcefully to wipe them away. Yet before he could claim victory, he heard a strangely familiar voice softly calling his name.

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