Home | Literature Index | Movies & Broadway Index | Television Index | Music Index | Miscellaneous Index | Submit Your Own
I stood quietly, surveying the rolling, sickly-green
ward of the shire for what seemed an eternity, but the
pain in my left foot brought me back quickly to my senses.
Stay on track!, I told myself again for the three-hundredth
time that day. The journey's end is near!, and
laughed aloud in spite of my dour mood and the seriousness
of my mission. Yeah, my mission--the joke was
bitter and brought no satifaction to my dying soul.
Moving once again, I startled rather than started down
the narrow path towards my destination, barely preventing
myself from a complete collapse with my staff. My left
foot howled in a futile protest of pain at this renewed
attempt at locomotion. Damn it! Damn it! If I had more
time I would re-body myself, but the star poitions had
told me it may already be too late, too late for all
and, besides, I didn't have enough mana left
to make the change.
As I stumbled forward with what little strength still
remained, a universe of conflicting emotions collided
within me,--seeking and rejecting, searching and abandoning--for
the one true doorway of this shire that would finally,
ultimately bring me closer to the peace that was so
desperately desired. An end, yes, an End to this
constant wheel of pain and suffering, this cycle of
birth and rebirth. Where is that damn doorway? The One
that will become the Exit?
I lost myself in the search, silenced the pain in my
foot, hardened myself to the task at hand, even as the
weakness I felt within me grow greater like a demon
seed, usurping control. Finally, I stood before the
diminuative door I sought. Except for my labored breathing,
silence folded itself around me once again, my body
and spirit coming to rest before this door, the
door. My goal was within--I could sense it with every
fibre of my being. I hoisted my staff and rapped sharply
on the door. A long pause, more silence and I was just
beginning to wonder if I had, impossibly, chosen the
wrong door, but the latch slowly turned and the door
opened, slightly. A young hobbit peered cautiously around
the edge of the door, and I felt all my misgivings and
tiredness melt away as I looked down and recognized
him.
"Frdo!" I exhaled rather than spoke, a smile beginning
to form on my parched lips. "At last...!"
"Yes?" said the hobbit. "Do I know you? Is that you,
Gandolf?" and his eyes grew large with fright as he
regarded my enormous person.
"Not really," I answered and with one swift, smooth
action I wedged my staff between the door and its jamb,
thrust in my other arm to grab him and then shoved him
down my throat.
I laid down as best I could on the tiny porch and waited.
I didn't have to wait long. Ah, that hunger and yearning
were finally beginning to fade. The searching is over,
the wheel has been stopped, the Exit is at hand, because,
you see, hobbits are toxic.