4.

Where did all the chances run off to?

Will they ever return?

Sitting along the lakeside and talking to the reflection is rather soothing. If only for a moment, the feel of nothing steadily rocking strands of hair to and fro. A nothing that will be only ever be as good as the peace that can be accepted therein.

I sit there longer and longer each day, I wonder more and more and yet here I am still screaming at the same reflection with same result.

Wouldn’t the masses state that is the sole definition of insanity? Could I possibly finally be such? Is that what the screams really are? My sanity compromised, my peace torn to shreds and the stability I thought, had a foundation stronger than the man of steel, still crumbling like sand castles in a monsoon. Yes, it is a monsoon out there and reflection won’t stop screaming back at me. I keep talking and I am no longer met with rationalization or sound reason. I am met with screams, screams of fear and contempt that leave me weaker than if I was the reflection.

I know where the chances all ran to, I know why they stay away and continue to hide. I understand the animosity they must harbor. Why would they give themselves to me when I give them nothing in return?

Asking for something to give nothing, maybe reflection you are screaming at me because I take without thinking about what and from whom I do this taking. How can a chance wish to be used when it is so easily wasted?

The chances have just as many questions, the only difference is that the chances, do not get a say, they have no voice.