He has Faith in the natural order of the world, John is realising, even if he cannot bear to have Hope. It is larger, vast, encompassing the future, cycles of discovery, joy, loss pain, trying again. He is losing the ability to look forward. There is no one there. No One. But as he loses that, he finds within himself the steadier star of faith. He learns, always learns. Even in the valley, the abyss, he learns and grows. Somehow, despite all evidence to the contrary, he rests quietly after losing hope. Hope is specific. Hope is looking for his friends, coming down the hills to him. Faith dictates that somehow, and he knows not how, there will be another summer. How strange to find this within him, after lying in the dark, haunted by his own singularity. Somehow there will be another summer. He sees himself lying back on the grass, cradled in his verdant but shadowed valley. He sees the world looping dizzily around the sun. And at the backswing of the loop, the world, and himself riding upon it, tilt away from its warmth and the valley grows chill, icy, dark. His bones feel very distinct, devoid of the warmth of even the nearness of his flesh covering his other bones. But he has faith, that there will be a forward swoop to warmth and light again, that he will have more to do than to curl in upon himself, holding himself dense to retain as much heat as possible. He has faith that there will be sun to pass over the blades of grass and catch his light hair, to quicken his heart and take the painful bite from his lungs.

John looks forward to Summer. And he rides out from Pueblo towards Denver, Leadville and Glenwood Springs.

Name: John H. Holliday, DDS.
Fandom: History.
Word Count: 302
Please comment if you wish.
Nulli Virtute Secundus
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