Brian was exhausted, not in the way one is often tired but in truest form of the word. When worn to the core and depleted of the very essence of life we find ourselves barely unable to move. This was the irreconcilable state Brian had found himself in as he slumped forward, his broad frame sprawled against the polished wood of the table. He desired nothing more in that moment than to close his eyes and let sleep take him. Behind him the newly lit roar of the fireplace warmed his aching shoulder, the intense hurt melting away. The stabbing pain had been an unwelcome visitor which had taken up residence along his back with increasing frequency as winter settled in. The year prior it had only been a twinge but it seemed he had entered the phase of life where with each passing season he was met with more decay than delight. In the warm firelight he let himself
It was the kettle’s whistle which forced him to shake of the continued remnants of sleep as he hurriedly he stumbled to the stove. Brian didn’t want the kids or his wife waking up yet. These few quiet moments in between when one day ended and the next began had become a bit of a respite for him worth the loss of sleep they required. Methodically he poured a few drops of milk into his standard mug then filled it with Irish Black Tea. After a long contemplative sip, the strong dark flushing out the last bit of hollow numbness from his limbs, he nodded in approval of his creation.
Content he lowered himself back into the chair beside the fire to watch it churn. On the table was a copy of the prior day’s paper, still unread he wrote it off to the ages and threw it into the orange flames. The fire roared as a wave of heat swept over the parlor. His face red with effect Brian turned to the window.
He could hear the cold on the wind as it raced in across the harbor the shutters quivered in response. At the shore a thin crust of ice shifted and cracked into grand pieces, waves churning it into a thick foam of slush which refroze along the dock, giving it the appearance of glass. If the temperature dropped any farther he wouldn’t be able to take the boat out again and the traps would go bad. In his head he checked off the work he needed to do. It would take another full day to close out his current traps, then one more to make sure everything was set for winter. Not much time he thought, his head nodding instinctively in agreement.
He might be able to get Luke to help. The two fisherman had never been friends yet they shared the same mutual respect for the work that had to be done. More importantly they shared a mutual understanding of the challenges of fishing the North Atlantic in fall. The unpredictability of it and the dangers that even the slightest miscalculation in the spring could cost you dearly in winter.
Brian thought of his father, he had the gift. He could look into a spring breeze and see every storm till winter. The weather had seemed somehow less than in his childhood. There was something different in seeing a season or storm roll in along the shore and riding one out at sea or knowing the true impact it would have at home.
As Brian finished his tea he reached for the worn leather jacket he had set beside the stove to dry and begun to bundle himself. The kids would be down soon, his wife caring for them as they came roiling past. Then the day would start all over.
Brian couldn’t tell you whether the struggle with time, exhaustion, or the world was his greatest challenge. Only that he struggled with them equally and ultimately in vain. At the sounds of tiny footsteps cascading down the hall he readied himself in the doorway with a smile.
Nemesis: one that inflicts retribution or vengeance, a formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent, an act or effect of retribution, a source of harm or ruin
Author’s Note: Day 11/365 done. In my mind it’s easy to make another person your nemesis, but a person can be reasoned with, beaten, or even made an ally. Though it is cliché I often find in practice its harder to recognize the real challenges that face us are the larger universal or societal constants we cannot readily defeat. In my mind Brian is a person challenged by any number of these things, from his own physical limits to nature itself, yet he faces them with purpose the way we all do.
The Flask/Pen 