Chasing Rainbows

Elliot had spent most of his life chasing rainbows. Not literally, of course. That would be ridiculous, and Elliot — despite what people said — was not ridiculous. A dreamer, perhaps. A little foolish at times. But never ridiculous.

It started when he was seven, sitting on his grandmother’s porch, watching the rain clear over the hills that rolled like waves beyond their village. A rainbow had burst into the sky then, so vivid it hurt his eyes, and his grandmother had leaned in close, whispering with the kind of mischief only the old possess, “There’s gold at the end of those, you know. All the fortune you could ever need.”

Elliot had spent years chasing that first rainbow. He’d run down muddy lanes, climb fences, and scramble through fields, always trying to reach the shimmering arc of colour that receded as quickly as it appeared. Over time, the metaphor stuck. Life became a series of promises — jobs, relationships, ambitions — all shimmering with possibility, all just out of reach. Every goal seemed like the rainbow his grandmother had spoken of, and every time, when he reached for it, it slipped further away.

At twenty-five, Elliot found himself standing at the edge of a life that had never quite unfolded the way he’d hoped. He’d moved from town to town, chasing careers that fizzled out, loves that turned to ash, and dreams that felt more like illusions with…