The Wind Blows South©

"I try to speak, but I can't find the words to say" says Patrick to the psychiatrist.
Patrick is a tall and slender Caucasian boy with bright green eyes and dirty blonde hair.
"Have you ever thought that being the quiet and shy one may no longer suit you? What goals do you have in life? Dreams? Ambitions?" asks the psychiatrist with beaming eyes as he looks onward at Patrick.
"I've wanted to be a writer since I was very young. Entertaining people has also been a fascination of mine. Anything that keeps me remembered, but never forgotten" replies Patrick, keen to let out all that he had been wanting to say. The psychiatrist simply nods and then proceeds to write down some thing in a small notepad that sits on his lap.

"You kind of need to open up to be an entertainer, do you not? You need charisma! You need to be outgoing! Do me a favor Patrick. Tell me some things you love" says the psychiatrist.
"I love the way that the grass glistens under the sunlight in the morning dew, the way the clouds roll overhead on a nice summer day, the way that a tree can always look untouched unless interacted with by forces of nature, the unconditional love brought on by an animal; oh...and a certain smokeable herb" replies Patrick with a slight chuckle at his last sentence.
"Alrighty then...I think that's all that's needed here. You...sir...are free to go" says the psychiatrist as he sits down his pen and notepad on the desk in front of him.
"Um...go where exactly? I don't actually recall how I got here" asks Patrick confusingly.
The psychiatrist laughs.
"Back to reality, Patrick" replies the psychiatrist.

The counseling room then completely illuminates a bright yellow. Patrick then opens his eyes to see the ceiling of the tent he was meditating under. He then commences to get up off his back and stands up. He walks over to the back corner of the tent and grabs up a pair of red sandals, putting them onto his feet thereafter, walking put of the opening in the tent he is greeted by the bright light emanating from the sun.

Only a few clouds dotted the gorgeous baby blue sky. The tent sat in the center of a large and open beautiful green sea of grass. Lush forests dotted the horizon in the distance. Animals of all variations could be seen working their way merrily through the landscape going about their daily routine. A small, albeit pretty and tranquil bed of water sat a short ways to his left.

Patrick had only been here for a few days now on a quest to find himself, as well as his heart's deepest and most personal desires. He had only planned to return to his normal duties in society when he was truly ready to do so. Reaching up into the space between his right ear and center of his head, he pulls out a very suspicious-looking white stick. He then puts the stick into his mouth, and lights it using some matches that he had uncovered from deep within the depths of his pocket. Gracefully trekking through the meadow an puffing away he admired the absolute beauty of all that surrounded him.

As the air around him seemed to get lighter and the sunlight brighter, he edged nearer to the forest straight ahead of him. The grass parted at the slightest touch of his feet. As he reached the forest, he parted the shrubbery to push his way deeper in. Light creeped magnificently through the treeline overhead and animals from squirrels to a few baby deer ran from the sudden disturbance echoing from the bushes. Patrick continued to slowly walk through the forest.

After what seemed like hours, Patrick had reached a small clearing. Brightly colored flowers filled the space. Then, his eyes led him to something not-so-magnificent. On the edge of the clearing laid a small fawn with bulging blue eyes and a clean coat of hair for cover. As it writhed in pain, he noticed that one of it's hind legs had blood seeping from it.

He carefully approached the fawn in an effort not to scare it. It looked him in the eyes while it's own eyes watered in pain. He began to observe the environment around him as he tried to devise a plan of action to care for the creature. He rushed for a nearby patch of weeds and plucked a hand full from the ground as debris from the dirt fell from the bottom. Taking off the leaves, he walked up to the fawn and began to wrap the weeds around it's leg to assist with sealing the wound.

"You will be alright now" said Patrick softly as he gently caressed the fawn's back. The animal looked at him amusingly as it's pupils dilated immensely before skipping away into the heart of the forest. Patrick sat gleaming away at the spot he had seen the fawn vanish at for a long while before he had decided to look away. He walked to his left and came to a tall and thick tree.

There was an opening in the tree with a large and open area. The flooring was of pure marble. It appeared to be of man-made architecture. The walls were granite and torches were on them, lighting the space. Patrick entered cautiously. A chair sat against the back corner of the wall.

In it sat his psychiatrist looking as though he had been awaiting Patrick's arrival.
"I had only figured you would come to this place again, Patrick. Have you LEARNED, Patrick that you have to live every day like it is your last day on earth?" asked the psychiatrist with rage at his last sentence.
"I have. I understand" replied Patrick with a look of fear etched across his face.
"Then my work here is done" said the psychiatrist as he vanished from the chair. The room around him dissipated with light and was then pitch black.

Patrick awoke back in the tent he had originated from. When he had got up, he gave a simple nod of his head and began to pack up all of his belongings. He got out of the tent and started taking it down. The sun set let on the horizon. He had learned all that he had set out to.

Short story by: Daniel Alspach

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