Flash Fiction: 8
Last year, all he could talk about was how good he was doing. He mentioned his success and projects in development to anyone that listened. His words were filled with happiness and hope. Anyone who listened walked away thankful for his generous energy that seemed to recharge those who were in proximity.

Time brings changes. Tides push and pull. This most recent tide pulled him deep.

This year has been different. His words can no longer lift a soul. He finds it hard to lift himself out of bed on some days. But he does. When he is around others who expect to see him full of mirth, he presents the most perfectly fraudulent smile you can imagine. It only fools those that don’t bother to look past it. Those that have too much in their own head to bother looking deep into his. Even those that do look past the fake smile and see the sadness still don’t bother to say anything but, “Nice ta see ya.” Then they move along.

Even so, and despite the weighted year he is having, he does keep a little light lit within. He knows that there is still a pilot on inside his deeper most.

Next year’s language has not revealed itself. It still hasn’t been written. Which way will the tide pull? How will the yin yang?

He keeps that little light lit. That’s all he can do right now.