“It’s strange,” Rusty said. “I once lived a life that was colourful and true, and although that life is behind me, I still feel it calling. The people I knew, the places I called home, they’re not here anymore, and sometimes it feels as if they never were. Within me, however, they live. Not as ghosts, but as they used to be.”
Staring into the light, Rusty tilted his head to one side.
“There are so many times when none of this seems real, and I’m certain that all I see and feel is just a dream, but even if that were the case, and my life’s worth was based on mere fantasy, I know I would continue in the same vein. There’s no other choice.”
“You believe it’s fate?” I asked.
“Yes, I do” he replied. “I have a story to tell, and my story is unlike any other. It’s taken me to a state of being so far removed from the world I once belonged to that even if I wanted to, I don’t believe there’s a way back. The footsteps I have tread could only have been trodden by me, in much the same way your footsteps belong solely to you. Perhaps it might’ve been easier to have a lived a more ordinary life. It certainly would’ve been less painful, and yet as I’ve said, we each have a calling. Only a fool would deny what lies inside their heart.”
The music shifted and changed while somehow remaining the same. There were words, and although their meaning was felt within me, the language that carried them was alien.
“I was told all my life—in the life I left behind—that I was mad, and that very well may be the case, yet let me tell you, only those who are mad will ever be able to find this place. To those who are good and proper, it’s as hidden to them as the eyes of God, and the eyes of God are the easiest of all things to see. You mark my words.”