Through fields of green velvet, I saw a lone figure come over a hill. In its hand it held something resembling a stick. I strained my eyes, to try and zone in, but the figure seemed to get further away. I decided to let out a roar, maybe it would hear my voice. But to no avail. My energy seemed wasted, and I was no closer to quenching my burning pains of curiosity.
It was walking towards me, but was also getting further away. How was this possible I thought to myself. I decided I would walk towards this figure, but once again we got no closer. I stopped to think a while as to what was happening, how is this possible, am I dreaming? I closed my eyes but still I could see this vision. I turned away but still it remained in my line of sight. I walked away but still this figure was coming my way. I walked into a cave and tried to blurr my vision, but still this image remained. I decided to carry on my way, coming to the conclusion whatever this figure was, it would just dissapear. I managed to adjust my vision although this figure was always there, I could put it to one side, and carry on my journey. For years now I have managed to live on, convincing myself that this was just a figment of my imagination. Somedays I didn't notice this figure at all, conditioned myself not to pay it any heed. Convinced myself that it was not real. Every so often I would concentrate on this figure, try to work out who or what it was, but it always remained in the distance, but still coming my way.
One day I woke up and started my day and for several hours did not notice but felt almost strange. Then it occurred to me that this stranger in my vision was no longer there. I felt relieved, was I back to normality again? I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to scream. I wanted to jump up and down, for no longer was this image there. I went to the bathroom to have a shower and shave. I looked into the mirror and to my amazement I could see that I had changed. I can not explain in rational ways, but something inside me had changed, made me feel brave and hungry for life again.
I decided there and then I would live in the present, and look to the future, wear no disguise just get out and do it.
I often wondered who this stranger was, with its stick in its hand. For want of better words I put it down to the doubts in my mind. It was the grand master of repression and torture... A fool on the hill and at the foot of my bed.

©Conor Boland