A Rare Case of Wanderlust

A Story by DezChampion

The risk of being content

It was on this day that the air did not whisper. The sand did not clutch at the insides of his toes. The waves ceased to ebb unto the horizon. His eyes, dreaming with pools of moons cascading over the ethereal skies, could not believe. There, in the bay, rippled a lake; a boundless stream tugging at his wanderlust. And in the lake, playfully swaying in the breeze, lay a boat. He walked to the boat; gently placing every moment the vessel called to him into the pockets of his soul. He thought. If he stepped into the boat, he would not know where he would go. Yet if he did, he knew what he would leave.