A question remains as one decided to keep chances open. Plans are infinite as they are easy to come by. One thing that is hard would be reason. Plans require fuel, time, sweat, or sacrifices and such things aren’t available to anyone.
Years had passed and offers were not standing anymore. Chances were over and the odds were stacked against oneself. Decision to stay out in the open left one suffer and vulnerable.
There was contingency plan, in case something went wrong. And later, things went totally wrong. Wrong was just another point of view, as an old man would have pointed out. This didn’t make things any more comfortable. Time never stops. Then. then day came forth and, both blood and sweat had to become a story not to be told.
A choice has to be made, either it’s desireable or not. As time passes, shoulders become heavier, tears start to accumulate waiting to burst. A life of vagabond isn’t an option and white hair doesn’t wait. To the unknown plains of gold and trees, feet should make their first step. Hands should start mining or cultivate the soil. But eyes still gaze to faraway across the sea and soul sailing the ship to new continent.
Messy hair with plain face, anyone would write their stories on anything. Suits aren’t an option. As one would wager once more, one’s pocket was already almost empty. Other offers stand still. Raise, or fold.
Next plan should be the last one. The time seems not to tolerate failure any longer. As one opened the last card from the dealer, a deep breath was inhaled. One should make the call, immediately.