Life’s but a walking shadow.

For some, it is a constant presence that follows them reliably as they traverse the unknown that is their future, like a friendly figure that paints the sidewalk behind you on a bright, summer day. It is an afterthought that you only come to recognize in moments of quiet acknowledgement; when you’re contorting your hands to make blobs that resemble dogs or frogs. Life is a friend who silently watches as you exist and grow, and it grows alongside you.

For others, it is a monster. The shadow in the corner of your eye as you walk around your house alone in the night. It is that dark spot across the room in the form of a man, or the form of a creature who could reach out and touch you. It is a source of fear, like a child being chased by their own dark figment for the first time. Their shadow is a constant presence that follows them reliably, constantly nagging at their brain as they wish for peace and pray for help. Their shadow carries a weight, and it blocks out the light of the sun until there is nothing but shadow and they can only blame the dark for every iniquity of the life befallen them until they wish for nothing. They wish for the shadow to be gone, even if there is no sun thereafter.

Life’s but a walking shadow.