Virgil Matthews: Coward–Chapter Two
Author’s Note: If you haven’t read chapter one of Virgil’s story, please scroll back to the prior blog entry.
Like most boys, I had my childhood dreams of glory. I often imagined myself the slayer of menacing dragons, the redeemer of maidens held captive in high towers, and as a fearless warrior sacrificing breath and bone and blood for my companions in some great quest. Gallantly, I took up my sword, riding my stallion, its nostrils flaring, into the fires of hell and struck down demons. And in my dreams, men eagerly followed me into battle, inspired by my fearlessness.
But we boys must grow up.
Somehow, we become men. And we learn the hard reality that the battles we must fight are rarely quite as glorious as we had once dreamed. Yet these battles are no less treacherous. Along our journeys, we find our battles must be fought in high places, in the darkness, or in the unexpected cacophony of thunder and lightening and wind. Worst of all, we find we must fight our battles in the deep black waters of our own souls.
And we must fight them alone.