Short Story for The Living 1

When man decides the fate the world turns upside down….

Yarden is a river whose flow runs between his veins. Its prehistoric as if the running of the river was a universal truth trapped in time. He is trapped in this fate and he couldn't stop the flow of time no more than he could stop the flow of the blood through his veins that run towards the ocean. Yarden in normal. He is someone you would meet on the street. He is anybody and almost everybody but he has a story like no one else. His story is special because he chose it. Can a man become young again? Yet his inability to escape his aging body juxtaposed by his ability to escape through blind faith blinds him like light on water. He is trapped and yet always looking for an escape. He is wise yet young. Where does he stand? He stands at the river looking into the water where he sees a  fish.

"If I were a bear, I would eat it!" he chuckles.

"you are a pigeon!" says Barak.

"No I'm not stupid." Yarden jumps into the water and comes up with a fish. Slimy in his had he has to hug it so it won't escape. He throws in on land. It lands on the soft grass like a water balloon on a mattress.

"How did you do that?"

"Luck."

" I'm hungry."

"Well, you'll have to kill it."

"Maybe we should just let it die."

Barak hits the fish over the head with a rock. Scared he realized his blow wasn't strong enough. The river rushes over the rocks making a sound so peaceful it would be almost too kind to hear.

"You know, fish don't got much blood." Barak takes another blow.

"Blue blood. Kosher! Of course not all of them."

It was a brilliant day. The soft breeze and rustle of the rippling water would put a baby to sleep, embraced by the newfoundland grass. Yarden lay back. He could feel the hair of his arms being brushed softly by the forest breezes and the trees canopy's lights danced beneath his eyelids. He wanted to find infinity.

The sun started to set. The wind colder and the shadows dimmer and more obscure. He reached for his jacket. Barak was fishing with his pole. A dead fish hung on a line behind him.

"Wanna come back tomorrow?" Barak searches for the bait box. " Do you want the fish?"

Yarden gave him a look as if he should have known better.

"Come over and eat at my house."

Yarden saw a leaf floating down the river, stuck in an Eddie, turning and turning around in circles.

           Yarden's father was a carpenter, an owl who was able to scrutinize the living and shape it into its besst form. Yarden got back late and met his father was working in his shop. He had a machine saw in one hand. He was carving roof tiles for a home. He didn't hear Yarden entered through the door. Dust, smell of wood chips and  old coffee were the dominant flavors. Yarden was hardly noticed as he pushed through the door. A lamp was on to keep the room lit. "Yarden! help me with these tiles son." 

"But Dad, Barak invited me to eat at his house."

"But than, who would eat with me?" father smirked. "Look it. We've got to get these tiles done. Ive got an order due for tomorrow night. Help me son" .

"Whats for dinner? "

I don't know, I was thinking about ordering Chinese. "

Yarden picked up some chopper mittens and started chopping wood. 

 you know, I caught a fish today."?He squeeled

You don't say? 

?"asked his father as he pulled the gutter engine of the chainsaw. Yarden saw the head of the fish lying down" on the wooden slate
.