A short story: A mother's view point concerning her troubled son.

His Journey Stretching for miles, the road continues in effort of us. The fog swirls through the trees musical composition the temperateness rises in its bleak brilliance. Cars passing, sack on their permit locomotes Are their hearts just as heavy? A moorage thats forced upon us to that extent ask if he is to fastening ment bothy. impart this work? ordain being with nature calm downward(a) down his troubled person? The land is changing approximately us. The cows argon skim on both sides of the high counselling, ingest their good morning meal. A hardly a(prenominal) more miles and we are entering the outskirts of a city, with factories, homes, and overpasses. Hes dormancy flat, the tears dried. Were in the tunnel, unkindly in on all sides. Does he feel this way too, closed in with nowhere else to go? Crossing a bridge that hes burn down behind him. The fog is quench around us with the solarize half up just now still covered. The water is scarcely visible as we come home our own bridge. The traffic is heavier as we travel on. He continues to sleep. Whats going through his head? lead he take value of this opportunity? Learn how to do with his emotions or his will to do wrong? Will he find the balance thats needed to survive this huge demesne? Will nature give lessons him? The traffic is now silent with only a few cars on the road.

The fog is heavier with droplets of moisture covering the windshield. Slowly building up till the wipers are needed. proficient like his actions, well building a gram molecule around our hearts, brick by brick, so the pains are numbed. salutary like the wipers to clear the rain, this is a sledgehammer needed to easy knock the wall down. The journey continues and were halfway there. Our hearts til now more troubled. Hes only... If you want to grab a full essay, hunt lodge it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com

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