The Longing

Jared Jones stood on the stage as he raised his arms with the mike in his hand as myriads of fans shouted his name. He walked to the edge of the stage and grazed his hand over the hands reaching out to him.

“Rock on ya’ll!” said Jared.

He exited the stage and left the shine of the lights illuminating the stage and the outdoor amphitheater.

The shouting stopped after five minutes until the crowds began to exit the large space. It took about fort-five minutes for everyone vacate. When all had left, a lone man in a priest’s attire stood at the front of the stage.

Jared came out to get his guitar and paused at the man.

“Show’s over bro,” said Jared.

“I must tell you something,” said the priest.

Jared reeled back and frowned. “I am not religious, man.”

“I have not come to preach. I come with a message.” The priest took out an envelope and held it out.

Jared hesitated. Then he felt something resonating from the priest, something compelling and Jared took the envelope.

“The envelope will only open when you are most desperate. Farewell.”

The mysterious man turned and walked away.

“What was that about?” said Jared. He shrugged and brought his guitar backstage.

He walked out to his red Corvette.

Suddenly a ring tone came from a Bluetooth accessory on his dashboard.

“Answer,” said Jared as a voice came out of small speakers.

“Jared! Great show! You have come from a lone singer to an international superstar in no time!”

“I’m a natural,” said Jared.

“Indeed! The sky is the limit!”

“You’re the best, Nathan. If it were not for you, I would never have been anything.”

“I am glad to be your agent. I recall when I discovered you at that competition in Las Vegas.”

Jared chuckled. “So, where’s the next gig?”

“Atlanta, Georgia. I suggest you not spend all that much time at your cabin.”

Jared sighed. “I know. But I rarely get opportunities to hang out with my friends.”

Nathan’s tone changed to a terse, abrupt manner. “That goes with being famous, Jared. We’ll I have to get going.”

“See yah later, Nathan.”

Two hours later, Jared came to his cabin in the woods. All his old friends were there and when he walked inside, everyone cheered him.

“You guys! You’re too kind.”

For the next few hours, everyone played cards, fooled around with Jared’s PS5, and took part in table tennis.

Jared thoroughly enjoyed himself until it was time to leave. Everyone sung For He is the Jolly Good Fellow and then it was time to go.

Jared sped away back to the tour bus, and he was on his way to Atlanta. The concert there was a smash. And when the show ended he decided to sign autographs. Later he boarded the bus and was on to the next gig in Austen, Texas.

Show after show he sung his heart out to screaming fans.

As the months sped by, Jared began to develop a slight annoyance. While he lay on his bed in the large tour bus, he sighed. “Man, it’s not all fun and games, I guess.”

Over the ensuing months filled with nothing but the same duty.

Jared sat on his bed and brooded. Life was getting dull and repetitive. And wherever he went he was flogged with fans. This too made him groan mentally and soon he was sick of it all.

After a concert, Jared sat at the edge of the stage sobbing. He felt lonely. Suddenly he thought of the letter the priest gave Jared a year ago. He ran to his luxurious tour bus and went to his nightstand and pulled out the envelope.

Jared opened it and read:



If you are reading this, you have come to your darkest hour and the end of yourself. You have realized all the fame, money and riches are meaningless. You feel a hole in your heart only God can fill. He is what you are missing. If you wish to be free of your situation, you must think of a way to disappear from society and henceforth repent and turn to God. I have already prayed for you and your peace. Amen and amen.

Jared smiled. Now he had to think of a way to vanish from the world.

“How could I escape the world. The only thing I could is to…”

Jared snapped his fingers. “I could try it. But where would I go? If I get people to think me dead, I would be free.” Jared said as he thought of a simple scheme.

Jared went to a car dealership. Immediately, the car salesmen recognized him. “You’re Jared Jones!”

“I need a fast car pronto,” said Jared.

“Of course, this way Mr. Jones.”

“I’ll take the Jaguar,” Jared said compulsively.

Jared wasted no pleasantries but bought the car and sped off. He headed for a nearby ravine. He parked his car at the edge. He waited for nightfall and started the car, heading for the drop off and rolled out of his car and watched it careen over the cliff. A crash followed by an explosion.

Jared peered below. To an onlooker it would as though his body had completely burnt up. But the salesman would surely be able to identify the remains.

Now Jared had to retrace his steps back to the bus. After an hour, he stopped to rest. Then he froze at who was before him.

“You’re the priest, from a year ago! Why are you here?”

“I have come to take you to a monastery, far in the heights of a high unknown mountain.”

The priest touched Jared’s forehead and his eyes closed. He opened them and he was in a drafty, stone chamber with large, vaulted ceilings.

“Here you will serve God who you just came to know.”

Jared cried tears of joy. And deep inside, he knew he was where he was supposed to be.