Atticus Tellerson



  • In the semi-darkness of the fireplace-lit room, Atticus sat in his armchair and turned back his thoughts to days gone by.

    Those days were good, filled with laughter and the work of a farmer. However, his wife had passed away but last winter, and his son had grown up, married and left the home. Now he was left alone with his chores in the day, and a lonely dinner each night. An emptiness gnawed at his soul.

    He remembered bygone days, and how he enjoyed spending time with his own father, an outdoorsman, hunting in the woods behind his home. And also of the tales of adventure that his friends spoke of. He had not the courage to take up such a life, but instead opted for a staid and safe life as a farmer. Secretly, he knew that he yearned for adventure. Now as a man just past his prime, he felt a tinge of regret.

    His eyes roved over the paintings on the mantelpiece, then fell on a dusty cover outlining what lay underneath it. Suddenly, without a second thought, he pulled off the cover, and gazed on a crossbow, well maintained all these years, passed down from father to son. In truth, he knew why he neither let it fall into disrepair nor sold it.

    "Follow your heart." His father had said to him. Those words from his youth rang within his head.

    In the grey dawn next morning, Atticus, shouldering the crossbow and a bag, closed the gates to his farm and walked to his neighbour's farm with a letter and the keys. He was going to follow his heart.

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    PC: Atticus Tellerson


  • ICC

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