THE PATH OF THE DRIFTER

The lost man's toast...

Still in a daze of his flashback, he relived the moment where he walked through the city that never slept and felt like a graveyard. The lights were on but everything was dim. Searcher walked on through empty streets, past alleys where neon signs flickered on and off, past people who existed yet no longer lived. The world breathed but didn't feel alive.
Drifting without destination, Searcher wasn't crying, not raging, just walking. His body surely moved leaving his mind lagging behind. He felt like he was watching himself from the disance, staring at people, lovers holding hands, a child laughing, a man rushing home from work...It all looked artificial, like actors were playing their parts so well in a script they never understood. Her last words didn't stop echoing: "Maybe we just don't know what it's for". But to him, there was no "for". There was just existence, consuming itself like a virus.
He began to question everything: "Did she really believe what she said? Or was she just trying to comfort herself? If life has meaning, then why does it keep taking? If there's God, why does He watch in silence?"
Yet even as he asked, he didn't expect answers.
He found himself standing at a church door. It was open, the warm glow of candles flickered inside. For a moment, he hesitated and thought that maybe something in there would finally make sense until he saw the people inside and paid attention to their requests as they prayed: A man praying desperately for money, a woman begging for her sick child to be healed and a priest preaching about suffering as a test of faith.
It disgusted him.
To him, this wasn't faith, it was desperation. People pleading to a seemingly absent God, asking for things that should've already been theirs. A system that forced people to suffer first before they could be deserving of happiness. He turned away, walking back into the cold night.
He walked into a small, quiet bar. Ordered a drink, but as he often did, he didn't touch it, he just stared at it, like the night when he heard the news. A man sat beside him, a stranger, but someone just as lost. The man sighed, chuckled bitterly and muttered...
"Funny isn't it? Life. Just when you think you've figured it out, it pulls the entire ground from under you."
Searcher didn't respond and the man continued.
"I used to believe in something. Used to think there was a reason for all this, but the more I see, the more it looks like a joke"
Finally responding, Searcher said: "Not a joke. A virus...Something that wasn't meant to exist but now does. Something that keeps spreading, keeps consuming without knowing why."
The man considered this viewpoint, then raised his glass in a toast.
"To the virus then." The man said but Searcher still didn't touch his drink. He just stared at his reflection in the liquid, seeing nothing but emptiness.

Author's Note

Open to reviews, thanks for reading

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree Koi.
"Funny isn't it? Life. Just when you think you've figured it out, it pulls the entire ground from under you."
Searcher didn't respond and the man continued."
Sometime it feel like we are walking on sand. I liked the way you write. Easy to understand and grasp. Thank you for sharing the amazing and worthwhile chapter.
Coyote

[Koi🖤]

Thank you for reading my humble heart rain, Coyote.

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed your work and I hope to read more. You are welcome.