Crystalline Cool (50)

    "Crystalline Cool (50)"

   Duncan returned home, the 2-cycle KX 200 leaving him with severe shakes and tremors after the protracted and mystical journey, following the Canis rufus, which disappeared into the Otherworld as he put the Kawasaki on the kickstand and slowly sauntered towards the entrance of his humble habitat.  He noticed the El Camino but not Dad's truck; plus, looked back, and the lime-green machine was absent.    
   Upon entering the less than modest house, he felt no presence of corporeal humanity, nor was Roadkill around--and it had all been like a dream.  But as every dream offers an awakening, he intrinsically knew the truth.  He had not traveled to the North Pole, nor had a Dad, nor been at Saint Vincent Island, nor met a beautiful girl named Aimee; furthermore, Dad had died alongside Mom, having perished himself due to cardiac stress, and Duncan had always been alone, without a dog, and castrated by the grief of every scenario in his life, abandoned by brothers and sisters, being a bizarre eunuch digging ditches for less than minimum wage, unable to afford anything save crackers and tap water, no electricity in the house, just a car/truck hybrid and a shovel with a singular pair of pants and a few work shirts and some gloves.
   He examined his blistered hands, realized it was Christmas, gave thanks to the Christ child, and continued on, as all the poor in spirit do, hoping to inherit the Kingdom of Heaven, and quickly; hence, he muttered to the Christmas Spirit:  "Lord, make haste to get me out of here and into Your Family's embrace."
   He received no immediate response; thus, dug a ditch, went home, slept on the floor, as always, and talked to the scrambling rodents, his only friends, wisely knowing--others had it even worse.  
   This is the way of those targeted due to crazy faith, yet steeled by dreams into the Divine, wending beyond hope, into a perpetual state of desiring everlasting grace.