The Hollow One
The madman never had a problem with reaching any crossroads. He never had to make any decision, because in his madness he saw nothing else just a straight road to oblivion. He cared for nothing else.
Those who saw him marching on his way were looking after him with admiration. “This is someone who knows what he wants, someone who knows what needs to be done.” - they whispered among themselves. “How does he do it, never wavering from his ways?”
They never recognized that what pushed him forward wasn’t determination but the need to escape, he never was running toward to, but always running from something. And that something chased him after all to oblivion. Where he got to be relieved of his madness, and where he forgot and been forgotten.
All that remained was an empty shell. A hollow memento of escaping into nothingness.
