A Spectrum

He was walking, a slow, unmotivated gait. He didn't remember how long he'd been walking nor did he care. The road stretched as far out before him as it did behind. He'd always been on this road. For a change, he stepped into the corn fields for a bit, a reprieve from the scorching sun. It smelled different in here, too many smells almost, fresh and alive, not like the road. After an eternity of endless walking, he stopped in the field for a rest. It was almost dark now and his eyes were adjusting slowly. He turned several times. Then giving up finding anywhere else to sleep, he laid down and was immediately out. The next morning, he awoke but there was no color in his world. It was another day of traveling down the road. He started again in the fields, back to his slow, dragging trot. Later that morning, a noise from the road awoke his senses. He ran out, but the car passed on by. His momentary hope flickered inside and then it was gone. That afternoon, the fields broke into a clearing. A family was enjoying a meal outdoors. He slowly approached, but upon seeing this stranger, they were wary. The mother protectively grabbed her children. The father offered a greeting, but he gave no reply. Yet, the father was kind and offered to share some of their food. He was unsure but ravenous and accepted the food with out question. Next, the son approached. He smiled and extended his hand. Then something happened that he had almost forgotten he was capable of. He wagged his tail.