“Wind in my hair, I feel part of everywhere,

underneath my being is a road that disappeared,

late at night I hear the trees,

they’re singing with the dead,


– Eddie Vedder, ‘Guaranteed‘  from the ‘Into the Wild’ soundtrack.

The thunder rolled overhead as heavy drops of rain continued to cascade over the landscape helping to soak every available surface.  It should have been night, with the lights being switched on all over the house to combat the gloom, but it was barely midday.  The three men gathered around the body of a fourth, who was laid out on a bed in a white walled room staring apologetically at those three pairs of eyes.  His body had been broken upon the rocks and amongst the waves and his soul was slowly dying as his dreams evaporated into thin air.  Nothing needed to be said, the creases of their faces passed across each and every silent message effortlessly, the passive body language no barrier to futility.

The three men stood still and as silent as ancient monoliths.

One step forward and two steps back, there was no getting away from the integral pathology of a weak body.

To combat this required not the physical exercise of the body but of the mind, to be constantly engrossed in one or another subject, to expand horizons beyond the physical.  Could it be done?  He did not know.

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