Wish You Were Here

The night sky sat above, dotted with specks of white, suns from distant galaxies dancing for the pleasure of the inhabitants within the stratosphere. Syd sat on an enormous stone edge, his legs dangling above nothingness, his eyes fixated on the nightscape, and he was rapt within the pure beauty of the stars. He wore a thick coat, yet he was still shivering like a madman. His ears stung and his eyes were frozen, but he could not muster the strength to leave his perch. Syd’s legs felt like sandbags, and his arms made of brick. He brought a burning cigarette to his mouth and inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke caress his lungs and throat. Behind him, the massive redwood trees swayed back and forth, matching the tune of the wind. The leaves rustled ominously, and in the distance, a wolf called to the rest of its pack. Syd sat still for a moment, hoping to hear more from the wolf. After the first call, the forest valley erupted into a chorus of long, melancholy wolf howls. God. This is pretty spectacular Syd thought to himself. If I had my way, I would stay in this moment forever, never again worrying about her. This is too damn perfect. Syd sighed and stood up, kicking a rock and sending it screaming down the mountain.

   The walk back to his camp was short and uneventful. The trees gave him sanctuary from the wind, and the goosebumps of his body slowly began to relax. Syd marched through patches of brambles and roots that snaked to the middle of the trail. His eyes stung from the cold and the pale moonlight illuminated his breath. The enormous redwoods looked menacing in the dwindling light, their branches closing aggressively around him. Syd brought a fresh cigarette to his lips. Wrapping his mouth around it, Syd fumbled around his pockets searching for a lighter. After what seemed like an eternity, he triumphantly produced his lighter. He brought it to the Camel, clicking away at the ignitor while he moved. No luck he thought distastefully. Grudgingly, Syd hurled the lighter into the confines of the forest. He brought the cigarette back to his pocket and trudged on.

   The campsite was quiet when Syd reached it. All the tents stood dark and seemingly barren. In the center of the circular site, a fire crackled away cheerfully. Sparks flew from it, soaring into the sky and disappearing from sight. Sitting down in one of the chairs surrounding the pit, Syd began poking at the fire with a stick he found lying on the ground. Flames danced up the wood and bit at his hand. He flung the stick in pain and the fire claimed its prize. Syd took a moment to resume staring at the stars. They still shimmered in triumph. Syd allowed his thoughts to continue. What the hell did I do he thought sadly, why is she gone. He threw his head down and stared at his boots. The firelight twirled and bounded on the toes, this brought a smile to his face and for a moment, if only a brief one, Syd felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps it is for the best. Picking his head up, Syd scanned the surroundings. The tents of his companions sat silent. Across the fire sat a painted guitar. Syd stood up from his chair and walked towards the instrument. Picking it up, he felt the familiar weight of the instrument. Flipping it to the front, he gasped at what the owner had painted. A lone bear walked underneath a harvest moon. Dark blues and greens were used to color it, giving the painting a melancholy look to it.

“Expensive guitar,” he said aloud.

“Yes, it’s my most treasured possession.”

Syd’s head shot up, and he twisted around searching for the speaker. The site was empty except for him. I must be imagining things. Syd grabbed the guitar by its neck and reclaimed his chair. Resting the instrument on one knee, Syd ran his finger down the base, hitting each string once. Biting his tongue and leaning his head toward the guitar, he began working at the knobs at the head, slowly tuning the guitar. When he was satisfied with his work, Syd ran through a few fingerstyle drills he had learned as a child. The guitar rang with a melancholic sound, bringing the nearby animals of the forest to tears. When the last note sounded, Syd allowed it to echo throughout the woods.

“That is quite the playing my friend.”

Syd looked up, half expecting to see no one. Another sign of my growing mental insanity. Syd looked around the somber camp once more, this time, finding a man sitting directly across from him. His blonde hair fell to his shoulders and shimmered and shone in the light of the fire, reminding Syd of the barley fields in his hometown. The man boasted a thick beard, which displayed the same blonde coloring. His skin was smooth and clear, and his arms showed years of physical excursion. His sea blue eyes glimmered in the firelight, and his mouth was upturned in a smug smile.

“Wh- who are you?” Syd managed to get out.

“I am not sure if I can explain who I am in the world with mere words.”

Syd sat dumbfounded, clutching the guitar with white knuckles.

“May I?” The man asked politely.

“Yes, it is yours isn’t it?” Syd stuttered.

The man released a great laugh, sending a flock of birds flying into the night.

“Yes, but you seem to be a guitar man, and I trust you with it.”

Suddenly, the instrument had vanished from Syd’s hands. Syd stared dumbfounded at the vacant space where the guitar lay no more than a second ago. Looking up in confusion, he saw that the instrument had reappeared in his companion's hand.

“H-How did you do that?” Syd stammered.

The man grinned vivaciously.

“Somethings are perhaps better to be left unexplained.”

The stranger brought the instrument to a comfortable position. He then strummed twice, testing the sound of the strings. Suddenly, the man broke into a beautifully intricate riff completion, pausing only to let specific notes reach their full potential. When he had finished the serenade, the man began rapidly tapping his fingers back and forth, striking each note with the speed and precision of a viper. The man’s face remained stone set, his brows only the slightest bit furrowed. Startlingly, the fire seemed to take to the man’s music, leaping into the air in tune with the notes. Stray sparks soared through the air in Syd’s direction, exploding into a sunburst of glorious light on its journey. The faster the man played, the more vivacious the flames became. To Syd’s utmost astonishment, as the man reached his peak of speed the fire seemingly took the shape of a woman, her entire corporeal figure formed from flames. Her movements were as mellifluous as the man's playing, and her fictitious figure kept up with the tempo. Syd furiously rubbed his eyes, refusing to open them. I must be going crazy. Honestly losing my mind. Apprehensively, he slowly raised the lids of his eyes, hoping that the girl of fire would be gone. To his dismay, the flames still held the shape of a woman, only now she stood motionless. Her face of fire had turned towards Syd. He leaped in shock at the face which stared back at him. Not only was it sadly beautiful, but it also held distinct traits of a lost loves. Women whom he had felt for from various points of the entire, wasted, years which he had inhabited this earth. Syd fell to his knees and approached the women. She remained in place, yet now a small tear of orange softly crept down her cheek.

“Ah. Tell me, my friend, for I am extremely fascinated with the human mind, whose face do you see?”

Syd violently twisted his head towards the man, a look of shock on his face.

“You--you see her too?”

“See her? My friend, I created her.”

“How?”

“As I’ve said, Syd, many things are better left unknown, but please tell me, who is it you see?”

“Everyone. I know it sounds foolish, but I honestly see everyone whom I have ever loved.”

“Fascinating. Truly fascinating.”

“If I may ask, what do you see in the fire?”

The man grinned, and for a moment, his eyes seemed to twinkle in the light of the fire.

“Well. I see many things. Sometimes the woman takes the form of magnificent landscapes which the most creative mind could not even dream. Sometimes, she shows me what is to be and sometimes what has been.”

“What is to be?” Syd asked eagerly.

“Bright days my friend. Bright days indeed.”

“Truly?”

“Truly, well, the woman can be deceiving every once in awhile, showing the opposite of what is to happen.”

“Why?”

“I do not know.”

“But I thought you created her.”

“I did, but that does not mean I can or should have control over her. I gave her life, and it is her choice of how she uses it.”

“Do you believe she is lying about the bright times ahead?”

“I could not care any less, my friend.”

“And why is that?”

“Mystery. It’s the greatest gift given to humankind. Now, it has become a common misconception that the unknown is a dark, malicious figure, constantly looming over the regular man or woman, only waiting for a chance to strike fear into the heart. But, in my many years on this beautiful earth, I have come to a different conclusion.”

“And what is that?”

“Well, I have come to philosophize that the unknown is, in fact, more beneficial to the soul that what is known.”

“Why?”

“Because, if you have complete control of your life. For the sake of argument, let us humor the notion that you were granted the power to make anything you wish happen take place, with some exceptions of course.”

“What are the exceptions.”

“Well, you simply would not be able to say ‘Let me fly’ and be able to fly. The laws of science would still chain you, but other than that, you could make anything come true. You wanted someone to fall in love with you. Done. You want to be rich beyond belief. Done. Living this way, you would find no sadness. Never.”

“That notion is quite enticing.”

“Yes, that is what I first believed, but then I began delving deep into the mind of the mortal man and woman. First, we must realize that every person, no matter what background they come from faces hardships. That is an undisputed fact, yet some people tremble at the thought of this. They want to be exempt from all troubles, and to achieve this, they believe they must become affluent beyond belief to escape these problems. I found the pain comes not from the corporeal figure, but the mind.”

“And how is that?”

“Well, this discussion would take us many nights to complete, and I must be going now, so I will leave you with this: we generate our problems. Now, just think of that my friend, and you may find bliss.”

With that, the stranger disappeared.

The End

Author's Note

Let it rip, man