Hey guys! I’m back yet again. With another story created during my insomniac hours last night.
The Cave Man sat, on his butt, legs spread in front of him, fire roaring, watching the fish he had just caught roasting over the flames. He didn’t know what he’d ever do without his precious fire.
He sat and watched the flames dance in front of him. He liked the way they looked. Red and yellow and orange. A symphony of color, a display of beauty and grace.
The fire was so fragile, yet so strong. He knew nothing else like the fire. He could crush it. He could throw it in the water of his cave, and destroy it.
But in doing so, he would be destroying himself. He needed the fire to live. Without it, he would get cold.
Without the fire, they would come.
They would come and get him.
But on the other hand, the fire needed him. He fed it. He kept it safe from water and wind. He kept it alive. The two were close. Fire and man. The two needed each other, but there was no love. If the caveman got to close, there was no gentle embrace, no warm touch.
There was only pain. The caveman knew that. The fire was made of pain and heat.
So the Caveman lived in fear.
Fear of the fire. He feared one day it would escape. His precious, his darling fire would get out and consume him. But he couldn’t rid of it. Oh no. He could not rid of it.
Or they would come.
They would come, and they would get him.
He knew not what they were. He only knew he feared them more than he feared the flame.
The worse of two evils.
Glowing eyes in the dark. Heart wrenching cries in the night. They would try to lure him away from the fire. They would try to . . . coax him away. Cries of help. Whimpering in the night.
The caveman would shut his eyes, close his ears, and get as close to the flame as it would allow.
Then he would wait until morning.
The sun was his savior. The sun loved him, surely. It never once burned him. It never once placed terror in his heart. But the sun was more like his love. He loved the sun. He waited for it all the night. He waited and waited, his heart burning with the desire to see her again.
But each night, the sun left. Each night the sun abandoned him. She left him to choose between the flame and the ones in the night.
Oh how their eyes glowed. Glowed with anger. Hatred. Jealousy.
They wanted his flame, but he would not let them have it. Oh no, he would not let them have it.
As much as he hated the flame, he hated the ones in the night more. He would never let them have it, until the day he died.
So the caveman waited, eyes and ears shut. The caveman waited for the sun to rise.