Like a stone thrown into a pondThe tall man stood like a pillar at the edge of the room. His face was young, unlike the sorrow of old age which marked it. Smooth sandy blond hair fell over his wrinkled forehead. Eyes like a beautiful blue sky let out a torrential rain of salty tears which flowed down her fine eyelashes. Droplets rolled down her tense cheeks to her trembling lips. His strong jaw was closed; muscles ached as he tried to contain the immense sorrow that welled up from his noble soul. Like a stone thrown into a pond, the reflection of his life was disturbed, wild and unpredictable. Despite his pain, he kept his head held high. His strong arms held a young boy to his chest. The child, who shared his father's sandy blond hair, kept his hazy hazel eyes wide open as he tried to take in the disturbing sorrow that flowed from his father's statue. Harsh white hospital light burst from an intense white orb on the floor. ceiling. It illuminated the walls of the room, but could not chase away the shadows of sadness and despair that enveloped the man and his son. A young woman lay on a hospital bed in the center of the room, the fluorescent light softening as it blended with the ethereal glow emanating from her still body. His immaculate features were relaxed and serene. Delicate lips complemented a strong yet feminine jawline. Her mousey nose was slightly pink to match the innocent blush on her cheeks. His eyelids were closed, covering the curious hazel eyes his son had inherited. Her long brown hair framed her face, wrapping around her features and over her slender shoulders like a glorious river delta. Therein lay the wonderful potential of a young wife and mother, and yet his future was but a... middle of paper ... a constitution grew around him, protecting him like bronze armor; he diverted the burning ashes and protected him from the wind. He leaned down and pressed his firm lips to her still forehead in an expression of intense love and passion before allowing the incomprehensible child that lay in his arms to shyly kiss him on the cheek one last time. To this day, this brazen man is still fighting in the desert. of his mind. Everywhere he looks, the horizon is clouded by a dusty orange haze. The ashes behind his achievement are unyielding. Yet he stands, walks and sometimes even runs. His happiness is what others would call satisfaction and his sadness is the suicide of the weakest man. Yet his actions are those of selflessness, love and dedication. Even if the ripples widen and the pond shakes more violently, nothing can tear away this man's fierce pride.x