Digging

He strikes the ground.

The blade of the spade rebounds back.

He changes location.

Strikes the ground.

The blade of the spade hits a rock.

He changes location.

Strikes the ground.

The blade of the spade snags a root.

He steps back.

Assesses his situation.

Spies an undisturbed sliver of space.

Strikes the ground.

A bit of terra firma is displaced.

It is here that he begins.

He digs. He digs. He digs.

He digs from the left and then the right.

He digs. He digs. He digs.

He gouges out a trench.

He digs. He digs. He digs.

Deeper and deeper he goes.

He pauses.

It is quiet.

He is alone.

He breathes.

Tugs at the tree.

It is not yet free.

He steps into the trench to get a better angle.

He digs. He digs. He digs.

He lies on his chest.

He digs. He digs. He digs.

Emotions within him swirl in strength.

He pauses.

It is quiet.

He is alone.

He breathes more rapidly.

Tugs at the tree.

It is not yet free.

He digs. He digs. He digs.

“I have a task to complete” he tells the tree.

He digs. He digs. He digs.

“I need to take you away from this place.”

He digs. He digs. He digs.

“I have a hiding place.”

He pauses.

It is quiet.

He is alone.

Emotions swell.

There is this well.

It sits in the center of his chest.

It is massive, wide and deep.

It once tapped an aquifer of love and happiness.

He was too young.

Too weak.

Too slow.

Others drained it.

They left a yawning cavity of unsafe emptiness.

Just waiting for an accident.

It filled with loss and loneliness.

So, he capped it.

Placed a plus-sized rock atop it.

Used clay to seal it shut.

No one no longer takes.

He no longer receives.

No more feeling.

No more trusting.

He had forgot about the aching.

But…

This digging.

Loss and loneliness climb his throat.

Fill his mouth.

He closes it shut.

Only his nostrils take oxygen in.

Push carbon dioxide out.

Loss and loneliness rise to his eyes.

He will not cry.

Stares aloft.

Hoping.

The steeper angle.

Will hold them off.

He begins to pace.

Worry covers his face.

What would happen?

Who would he be?

What if someone were to see?

He tugs at the tree.

It is free.

He exhales in relief.

Squats down.

Secures his grip.

Garners his strength.

Lifts the tree.

Sets it back down.

Then sinks.

Down into the hole that he dug.

Dusted in dirt.

There’s no more hurt.

Loss and loneliness leave.

At least temporarily.

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