Future

He rides away. He never stays. I ask him where he's going. Over the hills, over the painted background. You don't need me, he tells me. You don't need me when I'm gone. Sure, I'm useful when I'm here, but even then, even then... His voice trailed off. I wondered, why was his empowering speech so disempowering? Why did it make me feel like a child again. I again began to crave that attention, that feeling where I was giving him meaning. He wouldn't do it. Perhaps, perhaps he was more frightened than me. Perhaps he was scared of those hot cloudless days, those frozen nights and those endless red plains. He was scared of the wild camels that had overrun his yard, the brumbies that could not be tamed. He was scared of leaving me unprepared.