Narrow-Minded Cognizance

                                                        Narrow-Minded Cognizance

                                                              By Daryl Campbell



         A lonely man peers through an unopen window, bits of his soul visible in a tarnished image reflecting on filth stained glass. He closes his eyes in refusal of what he’s become. Pictures swirl through his thoughts, bringing back ambitions and dreams long ago lost to a capricious disposition. He pushes the thoughts away, opens his eyes to find that only time has passes, nothing else changes. Promises remain unfulfilled and dreams, well, they’re still only dreams.

         “What am I?” His voice is an ill, despondent whisper. “Why am I here? Why?”

         No answer. There's never an answer.

         He knows this isn’t what he wants, but he didn't have the courage to endure the hardships. He’s afraid of dying, though more so of living. The two pull at the fringes of his mind, appealing to hidden desires in an attempt to gain consideration. Fear is evident in the lines of his worried face and in his laboring breath. He's much too young to be subdued by such fatality, but has lived far too long to see any hope. Of this, he is certain.

         “The world has never been kind, there’s nothing for me!” He passes the blame, refuses to acknowledge his failures.

         Unworked hands press against the window, against glass that's cold and unfriendly. Angry! He knows it's uninviting, knows before he touches it that the world outside has no interest in him, is truly not a place he wants to be. His hands jerk back, repulsed by the pernicious cruelty they perceive.

         “Always so damn cold!” The words hiss through tightened lips. “How can anyone go out in this?” He always gives up easily, gives up before any real attempt is ever made.

         Painful memories fill his thoughts. His life passes before him as tears dance along the edges of his vision, blinding his sight before finding their way down swollen cheeks. In the last year he’s cried far more often than he’d care to admit, has lost more than he's achieved in all his years of life. Fear and loss weigh upon his heart and suffocate his soul. Darkness claws at him. Agony and despair pour across his life, paint the helplessness that envelopes him for everyone to witness.

         “A child!” he sobs “I'm a god damn child!”

         Uncertainty takes hold and misery racks his face. He instinctively tightens his grip around displeasing emotions, attempting to gain control over his self made, wretched existence. The control, as always, remains elusive.

         “Nobody left to care for me!” He chokes on self pity. Stark realization incites the anger and hatred that threaten to forever damn him.

         “Damn it! God damn it!” The scream causes the window to shake and echoes through a lifeless, vacant house.

         The quiet returns quickly. The house is once more a tomb and locks the man away from any needed reprieve as it inundates him with the longing and loneliness he’s become accustomed to. Black washes over him when malicious despair  rests upon his shoulders. The strain is unbearable and his fortitude waivers in the wake. The unforgiving hopelessness strangles him.

         He turns from the window and looks about the house. The walls are bare, the rooms empty, and the sounds that once filled it have long since vanished. The silence is maddening. The man lowers his head and closes his eyes again. He manages a smile, momentarily recovering what is dear to him.

         Children laugh, calling him daddy, as he wrestles with them on top of a thick blanket that's thrown across the wooden floor. The woman that loves him is asleep on their bed, her features so very clear. He brushes her hair back with a shaking hand and wishes to set aside his own fears and reveal to her the love he truly feels. He frowns. She never knows who he wants to be, will never see past the weak man hiding the frightened boy he's always been.

         He sees her as she prepares to leave. Her frustration with his failure to strive for anything greater, to fight for something that will make their lives meaningful wears her down. She loved him once, she tells him so even then, but she needs more. She wants him to love her as much as he detests the world and she's tired of waiting. The door shuts behind her as she leaves. The voices of his children fade in the distance.

         He opens his eyes and finds himself removed from the world that should’ve been, that he should’ve embraced. Its treasures are hidden from him, its memories fade, and only him to blame. He knows it's so, but is forever denied the relief of the truth. He never listens to what the silence tells him. He never takes responsibility for the misery he pulls down around himself. His hopes, dreams, and promised love are all forsaken and he knows his penance will be mercilessly insidious.

         “I just know.” He whispers, awaiting his impending doom.