Joe had spent his whole life in an addicted world, tossing himself to and fro in exploration. Drowning out the dreams he didn’t think would ever come to life. Had even become addicted to the world of oblivion.

One day, he remembered a dream he had as a kid. Sitting on a porch and admiring the forest in front of him. Dreaming of owning his own place of peace. A dream he felt was lost in the mix of life.

Feeling all the regrets of years gone by, he wondered how he could ever flip that dream to become real. Or, was there even a chance? Already in his sixties, it looked hopeless to him.

Sitting in a corner of his home, he realized he wasn’t behind bars where someone was watching every move. His home had become his place of solace. Looking out the window, there were homes everywhere. Only a few trees for shade.

Roads filtrated between the homes, with vehicles crawling down them back and forth. Thinking about the wild animals that used to travel the trails in the forest. As they pulled into their driveways, he could see the animals seeking shelter in the brush and trees they called home.

With the realization that everything in life changes over time, he also realized there was still time to build on his place of peace. He could still plant trees and watch them grow. Adding some brush in between. He could add to his home to make it a more peaceful place. Building on the picture of the dream.

It may not be the huge forest across the way. It may be smaller in space and time. In the end, he could change the view and make it his own. The childhood dream could still serve as a guide to become reality. The only thing to stop it, is him.


@Becky M Scranton