Ficly

The Greatest Journey Into Ones Mind

“So this is it, your last great novel of the 21st century.”
“Yes the final copy and the authors notes are in the back of the book.”
“Well I guess this is good-bye, I never thought the day would come were I would say those words so early in a bright career.”

I always wanted to write more about the world. My dreams kept crying out, screaming more like it. The world was a torn desolate playground. I never had the stomach of writing fiction any longer, writing of death when death was all around us. We do not need fiction to know what is around us. As George Fabricios once said “Death comes to all. But great achievements build a monument which shall endure until the sun grows cold.” I have made no foot print in this world, books that will endure the time but fade away in the minds of all. I left my publisher without turning around to look back. To see myself still standing there looking back at me, wondering if it is the smartest choice in life. To leave a career to pursue what is just a dream.

View this story's 3 comments.