Bruce Alone
• 2 • 294
It’s Sunday, and Bruce stands alone, away from the mob, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The open space stretches out before him, and the warmth of the day wraps around him like a comforting blanket. He scratches absently, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, lost in his thoughts. If only all days were like this.
The pressures of family life have been weighing on him lately. Being the leader, the one who’s expected to have all the answers, can be draining. There’s always something – a challenge to face, a rival to fend off, or some petty squabble to resolve. Out here, away from it all, he can finally breathe. No responsibilities for a little while, just the sun on his back and the stillness of the day.
He looks out across the empty space and, for a moment, feels utterly alone. It’s a strange thing, being surrounded by so many yet feeling this distant. Even when he’s with the others, there’s a sense of separation, as though no one truly understands the weight he carries. Today, standing upright under the vast sky, that loneliness feels even sharper.
But here, in this quiet, he can forget about it all, if only for a short while. No bickering, no demands – just him and the open land. He scratches again, more out of habit than need, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin. A small sigh escapes him.
If only every day could be like this – simple, free from worry, without the constant need to be strong. But Bruce knows this moment won’t last. Soon enough, he’ll return to the mob, back to the pressures of life. But for now, he’ll stay here, just keeping out of trouble.