Burning Sun

Burning Suns-A Metaphorical Walk

Fire, icy fire, walked into my senses, and the feeling just would not leave. It was like some old relative, who I never really liked, suddenly deciding to come live with me. Why wouldn’t he leave? “Danny!” At the sound of my name, I pressed on along the snake of a path. I slithered on and on, until I could slither no more. Suddenly the smells of wild flowers flooded my senses. They were redemption, drawing me away from the trial and tribulations of the trail. Sadly, everything good must eventually end, and as I continued along, the smells left and sad reality returned. (1)A billion years later, the sun went out. “I love the shade of the mountains; it really gives a nice refreshing break from an Arizona hike”, my parents commented. “Well, come on; we can’t wait till judgment day”, they continued. “I’m not Atlas you know...” I responded. As I continued to the end, I contemplated the question, “Do we really choose the path we walk?”





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