The Traveler

All his life Tommy had diligently followed the rules. Until he turned thirty when he was thunderstruck with wanderlust. Sitting at the kitchen table in the only house he had ever known, sharing cake and coffee with his mother, nervously scraping up invisible crumbs from around his plate, “I need more!” he declared. His mother picked up the knife and made to cut him another slice of cake. “I need a life!” he almost shouted, yanking the knife from her hand. He told her of his plans and she broke down and wept. Tommy promised to write, but he was resolved. Before he left, he sold everything, including his truck.


4 thoughts on “The Traveler

  1. Thank you Joseph Martin for your thoughtful response. Freedom is a funny concept and very hard to grasp, tangibly. Tommy is only fooling himself!

  2. There really is no freedom. We fly from refuge to refuge, entering where we’re accepted; trying to do what’s needed to be accepted. Very very few can be alone unto themselves. The vanished $20 connotes that Tommy has evolved into dishonesty — something that happens when you no longer can believe in the generosity of others. It’s a good piece, though.

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