Foundation

A Story by Glen

A short story I wrote, English is not my native language, will be glad to get feedback. Thanks.

And here I am, standing in aurora glow - reaching ultimacy sensations and feelings, living in every moment, at the crossroads between dream and reality.

Imagine a world - beyond your wildest fantasies. The world in which reigns eternal noon. A place where time - only epitaph. And any action doomed to failure and only brings the inevitable end.

If you ever have to choose between the familiar and the unknown, between certainty and uncertainty, which will you choose?

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FOUNDATION
He plots the ground , for the first time he is determined to set roots, it's cold, he has no gloves he barely has any belongings, but he keeps plotting.
His mind is empty , his breathing steams fade away in the mist surrounding him,l ike a blind man who tries to feel his milieu.
No sorrow no regret he will accomplish what he started "Jack,Jack come inside it's cold out there" a sound whispers through the mist he wants to lift his face up from the ground but he knows that only the sounds of the past fading in his head, he is aware, aware there is no one around him even miles ahead only him, no strings attached no commitment like he always wanted, that’s what he always wished for but yet what is this sound to come ?
He's done plotting, setting the ground to the next level building foundation…

A year has passed away jack sits in his cabin, looks threw the window he sees the wild, opens the door and walks outside , wearing nothing but what nature provided.
His mind is still empty wandering into the wild looking for prey, as he walks he distinguish a gazelle ,takes his rifle attaches it to his shoulder, holds his breath, it feels good, the prey is done.
Quickly he peels it skin off before it will get rotten he must be quick, takes what's his and leaves the rest to the wild ,with a bit of agony walks back to his cabin he will dine soon.
It's night but it doesn't make any difference ,he lays to sleep.
Sun beams spreading on his eyelids he opens his eye's, he feels warm but it’s only an illusion, what soon he realizes.
the illusion strikes hard he starts contemplating, suddenly not everything is clear "what am I doing" he whispers his sound is rising in progression he no longer whisper's, drops to the ground to find a sense of mind, possessed by madness he is not sure what he has accomplished so far from the sick society ,happiness exist, something is lacking not sure.

Leaving sense aside he walks outside the mist feeling heavy, somehow it feels like it's been always like that, a little thought passes by for a moment about the heavy mist, like a a creator of his own state of mind.

Aren't we all creators of our own state of mind? foolishly believing it’s our surroundings who influence it, and if they do, am I mine ?

Jack approaches threw the mist to the small trail he paved himself, just behind the cabin, carrying only his torch and magnum24.
"I can’t see s**t" he grinds swings his torch from the right to the left believing it will spread out the mist.
Finally he sees the arranged bottles he laid on the wall, aims and shots, again and again, "darn it" he feels a chill breeze in his neck, a touch perhaps he turns around but this mist is too heavy to notice, a bit terrified he walks back to his cabin, shivered.
He steps in to his so called living room, a couch and a fireplace, he throws a couple of woods to the fireplace, lights it up with a long match and lays back, he falls asleep.

Time is unknown, it feels like the sand in the hourglass is about to expire.

Jack opens his eyes it's morning "I had the weirdest dream" he says, thinking for a moment he still back home in his bed.