In spite of the wondrous things that had lately been happening to him, his mind soon fell back into the familiar groove of brooding over the disappointments and failures that stretched seemingly as far back as he could remember. His failed marriage was the latest and most bitter entry on the list of his botched attempts at accomplishing something in life. What was it she had said in that last conversation? “Chris, I’ve moved on. You should too.”
He thought about that. After she had left, he had thought about doing just that.
Moving on to him meant running away. It had always been his instinctive response when things seemed to fall apart. But most often he had lacked the courage to do even that. Until now. Until this trip west.
In this he felt the slightest modicum of satisfaction and Chris took the opportunity to slip into his depression, much like a man slips into a favorite coat. But try as he might, it seemed to elude him. How was it that he couldn’t even seem to work up the all too familiar feelings of gloom?
He didn’t know what to make of his strange travel companions, but somehow he felt that the pull to head west was purposeful. If this was “running away,” it seemed to be just the thing he needed to do.
Then, something strange started happening to his face. It took him some time before he realized what it was. He was … smiling.
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