Hakuna Frittata

"My legs are burning," he thought to himself.

It was true in a way. They were burning on the inside and the outsides were already burnt.

He continued onward though. It really was the only thing that he could do. There were a few things that he had to finish before the day got too far along so he continued onward, ignoring the constant sharp stabbing signals of pain that his muscles and flesh were sending to his brain

The path he was journeying on was a relatively short one, but there were things that had to be done. Point B had to be reached and then he could go on with the rest of his life. As he continued forward he thought, "Should I go back? Is there something more for me there? Perhaps if I just finish this, I can just keep on going."

In a way that was true. Where he was going was basically just a simple destination with one task in mind, but after he was done there he could just keep on going.

A small squirrel leapt onto the path and he stopped short. Why did such a small thing cause him to be startled? It wasn't the first time that he had been disturbed by a small woodland creature before. In fact, it wasn't the first time that it had happened to him this morning, but each time he questioned why he continued to be bothered by them.

"No matter," he thought and continued on the path.

He was tired. It had been days since he had gotten more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep. He longed for the feel of his own bed and the comfort that you get from being "home."

His legs had gone from burning to a full-on internal inferno. Large jets of flames began above the ankles and crawled upward teasing then igniting each individual nerve. He couldn't stop though. He volunteered for this duty and he volunteered to do it alone.

He'd always sought out ways to try and prove himself to others. The sad part though, was the fact that he was almost always disappointed in his own results. He knew why hid did it though. It was no great secret. It was for the same very reason that the outside of his flesh was scorched. It was in his blood. Every opportunity was a chance to proof that he could be good at something. It didn’t matter what it was to be done, everything could be a chance to find out if he should reward or punish himself for a job well done or a job done poorly.

Each step took him closer to his destination, and he was closer than ever before.

Two insects noticed that his arm was nearly motionless for a second and took the opportunity to latch on. His other arm flailed toward them and crushed one while it was still attached to his milky white underarm. A small bubble of blood seeped from the insects now flattened form, and it streaked down his arm. He flicked the bug aside and then checked for any other freeloaders that were attempting to come along on his journey. With none found, he continued forward.

The sound of soft ground under his feet changed to that of soggy old wooden planks, and he knew that he was close. He could hear voices in the distance now. Other people were beginning to stir as well and he thought to himself, "It's for the best that I did this alone."

He looked ahead and saw that his task was nearly complete, but there was something distracting him. Two creatures stirred but this time, for some reason, they did not alarm him. They strutted back and forth for a time, and then looked his way. It seemed as though they felt his presence from quite a distance, but were not concerned in the slightest that he was close to them.

"Look at him," the seemed to say to each other, speaking only through their eyes and subtle movements. "I bet he thinks himself better than us. His knees don't even bend the right way."

Then they left him, striding slowly without a care in the world other than for where their next meal would be.

He stopped, let out a deep sigh, and reached down to massage his aching legs. Part of his work was done, but there was a good deal left. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

It felt good.