It’s been five years now
Yet it still hurts me deeply
How you left this world
It’s been five years now
Yet it still hurts me deeply
How you left this world
Dadd drifted in and out of consciousness as sweat formed on his brow and then chilled him to his bones. He had plague. He felt like he was dying and indeed wished he would at times. He rolled from side to side unable to get comfortable and moaned in between coughs and sniffles. He felt like his face was melting.
In the midst of his anguish, his children called to him. They begged him for food, unable to find any. Their calls stirred his spirit and he found some remaining strength to lift his aching body from the bed and stand. The room spun around and he nearly fell to the ground but he managed to remain upright. Stumbling he sought his children. They were gathered together trying to decide how to find something to eat. Dadd stood, head throbbing and looked through squinted eyes.
“I will score something to eat,” Dadd mumbles.
“But father you’re ill!” The children pleaded.
“Bless you my children, you are good. But I am your father and I will find you something to eat.”
“Thank you dear man!” They cried together.
Drawing a cloak round his neck and gripping his bow, Dadd stumbled from their home and into the wild.
The wind chilled his face and sleet stung his flesh but he endured. With all his might he trudged looking for tracks of some beast that could feed his offspring. At last he found some.
The tracks were faint but he was able to follow even in the weather. At last he saw through the swirls of sleet his mark. A box of Lucky Charms pranced in the snow the clean white drifts kicking up around the food.
Dadd pulled an arrow and drew it back in his bow, aiming carefully. He exhaled then loosed his arrow. The missile flew true and struck its mark, downing the meal.
Dadd dragged the box back to his children and there was much rejoicing in the bounty he offered while he climbed back into bed, half wishing the plague would take him and end his agony.
Enslaved by Business: A Epic of a Wayward Blogger
1 Not so long ago, in the town WordPress
2 Lived a teacher who dreamed of being more
3 During the summer vacation he planned
4 To once more become an adventurer
5 For though he loved his students so dearly
6 He longed for a great life of excitement
7 And committing heroic acts for all
8 Whether saving damsels from fates horrid
9 Or slaying evil beasts of all sizes
10 And writing about all his mighty deeds
11 So he prepared to adventure once more
12 This time not letting distractions derail
13 His focus and zeal to go and explore
14 While he attempted such things many times
15 Each time he returned to life as before
16 Never having the energy to last
17 More than a couple of months at his best
18 For while his heart was pure, his body failed
19 Always weighed with responsibility
20 Demands called him back from adventuring
21 This time would be different however
22 Wiser and more committed than ever
23 Our man developed a much better plan
24 Pacing himself and setting up smart goals
25 He was more motivated than ever
26 As he set out to live his lifelong dream
27 Of poetry and prose for history
28 All would know his name and his fantasies
29 Etched in annals for antiquity
30 Nothing would stop him from his destiny
31 All was well through the summer months so warm
32 With students out of school at home to play
33 He began his adventuring posthaste
34 Was off to a glorious beginning
35 His spirits high as he traveled the land
36 Gaining ever more followers around
37 While citizens of WordPress expressed likes
38 Swelling the man’s heart with encouragement
39 He believed he finally found it all
40 The call that pulled at his spirit so strong
41 Alas, the students beaconed him return
42 His children desired he coach their team
43 Now hours of time used for adventure
44 Was instead used to instruct the children
45 And his adventures slowed as he tired
46 When before he had tales, now he had snores
47 The energy he had slowly destroyed
48 And his heart forgot the call of the wild
49 Though his spirit would one day stir anew
50 These days he digs deep merely to get through