Itinerant Chronicler

Appreciation

This was one of the more tragic stories I heard.  I heard this straight from the young man himself.  All he could say afterwards was how he much he wished he's noticed more.  It was quite tragic, he was such a pleasant kid.

"What a beautiful view," the young man whispered to himself.

He watched as the sun sank lower and lower over the distant hills. The last few rays of the day filtered through the trees that covered the hilltops and hid the creatures that lived there. How many sunsets had he missed, how man beautiful displays had there been in the sky that he never bothered to pay attention to. It was a shame he never took the time to just look at a sunset, but such is the folly of youth.

The young man hungrily took in nature's vibrant and spectacular colors that covered the evening sky. Red, orange, blue and even some purples spread their palette over the heavens far more skillfully than even the most talented artist could have ever accomplished.

It truly was a work of art, one that only nature could offer. Gradually he began to appreciate all the other beauty that just being outdoors had to offer. Just like the horizon it was beauty he had never bothered to notice before now. Everywhere he looked it surrounded him.

The leaves of the far off trees danced to the songs of distant birds and the winds that blew gently over the hills. Under that canopy of leaves he was sure that animals were playing. At the very least he imagined they were watching and waiting for him to leave so they could return to the plains at the base of the hill.

He knew his presence was disruptive to their lives, but it would not be long until he was gone. Until then, he would take the time to enjoy the vista before him. He would make sure to tell his sister all about it the next time he saw her.

Thoughts of his sister made him lament his apathy even more. When he and his little sister were kids he never could muster the excitement that she could at the sight of a rainbow, or a pretty bird. She would cry out with excitement every time she came across a flower, or spotted a critter that she would always swear was the cutest she had ever seen.

Now he wished he had found a way to share in her excitement, and her joy. He could still hear her excited cries in his ears. The memories brought a tear to his eye. He missed his little sister so much these days. She was very far away, and it would be a long time before he would see her again.

Suddenly, his view was blocked by a large brute of a man wearing wild looking furs and leather clothes. He carried a huge bloodstained club. The young man looked up and saw eternity in the eyes of the man who was a member of the tribe that was warring with the young man's tribe.

The wounded man leaned over to see past his foe to look at the sunset once last before his victorious enemy brought his weapon down on him, crushing his skull.

The brute turned to see what his enemy was looking at during the last moment of his life. He did not see anything of interest except the cursed sun in his eyes. He shrugged then moved on to the next body lying on the battlefield to make sure all his foes were all dead. 

If you liked what you read please vote, comment and follow. More to Come!