Short Story
A boy walks down an abandoned trail. It's quiet, only his foot steps and the wind can be heard. Fall time is here, and the trees and the ground are vibrant in hues of orange and amber. Once plump in for the summer, the trees now shed pounds to fatten the ground. Walking along this scene, the boy keeps hearing sounds in the distance. A snapping twig on his right, a wounded animal on his left. One after the other, he turns his head towards the source, only to just miss their presence. The wind begins to pick up. The trees begin to wheeze, their leaves start to dance and twirl. Twisting and turning, forming, the leaves shift from random to sequential, and move around the boy as a troupe of cyclones. Clanking and clonking, they rise up and down along the path like a bunch of bullies. The leaves soon begin to form patterns. The boy recognizes this at once and begins calling out their outlines in his head. It's a game of "I spy" with nature as the narrator. First, he spots a large lion's head, then a flock of of birds. The cyclones merge together to form a wall, or a canvas as the boy would like to think. Shapes immediately begin to appear in the thick brush. A tire swing, a car, the grand canyon, and maybe a house. The images go away and multiple types of clocks appear. Two wall clocks on the left, two pocket watches on the right, and a large grandfathers clock in the middle. The grandfathers clock belches a violent chime and the leaves cave over each other forming a waterfall. Out of the center of the waterfall walks out a leaf doppelganger of the boy. The boy stares at this makeshift mannequin and it stares back. They acknowledge they are the same. Moments later, an adult leaf-man walks out of the same foliage waterfall and places his hand on the boy's head. The leaves blow off the adult to reveal a flesh-toned young man in his thirties. The makeshift boy explodes into a random assortment of leaves, and the waterfall ceases to be. The young man walks towards the boy.
Hidden Evolution
Contradictions. Everyday, I change my mind on how I should act, what I should do, and how I should do it. The day I stop contradicting myself, is the day I die. Life is a perpetual equation of ideas of the past and experiences that might change current pretenses or solidify its undertaking. Evolution does not stop at the physical, it only began there. I once read that "we've limited ourselves as the top of food chain, and thus, stopped evolution in its tracks." I don't believe this. Everybody is constantly evolving, be it their physical persona or mental state. We continually stride to understand our surroundings and adapt ourselves to its will. Yesterday, I might have toast after reading an article about the benefits of wheat, but today I eat beets for its defensive ability against cancer. The material we digest results in the behavioral changes we proclaim and encompass. Reading a book might change one's mind about drugs, or open a door way to a more sustainable life. Ideas are power, and the better presented, the better used. Evolution hasn't stopped, it's just taking different channels. Through literature, film, and stills, ideas can be presented in multiple mediums that can speak to the masses. One by one, we find what works for us, and use it like a medicine. Prescribing daily to its doctrine. We take information and evolve it to fit our own understanding. Our minds then disseminate its meaning to further its own agenda. We use analogies for comparisons to complete the sentences we once started. Evolution has not stopped. It's only buried, and wrapped up in our brains.
