this was a short story i wrote last year, a teacher brought up what freedom meant, didnt listen to what i had to say so i wrote this while on the bus.

Freedom.

A man is walking. He’s not going anywhere in particular. He just wants to walk, maybe jog somewhere. He chose to disown his family, leaving his wife of two years, he also chose to leave his name behind. He brought with him only a newer pair of shoes and a few pairs of socks. No ID. No need. He was free. He was out of the surveillance of big brother.

He didn’t know why he was leaving. Something just called to him. Something deep in his soul telling him he needed to leave. So he obeyed. He walked across the highways, rail road tracks. He managed to make good time even though he wasn’t planning on making any records. He stopped in Wichita, bought a water bottle and a hot dinner with the little money he brought with him. He only stayed in motels when it was snowing or raining heavily. He took public transport, hopping from bus to bus, just for the fun of it. He purchased a disposable camera, taking pictures of odd natural wonders. A rose was purple when the rest were pink. He smiled. Snapped a picture. He moved on.

He walked from mid America up to Canada, and back down the east coast when the neighbor to the north got too cold. He waltzed into Mexico, and wandered aimlessly through South America. He only ate what was free. He filled his water bottle up when it got empty. By now, he’s grown thin and his hair matted and long. He got down to Panama. He went over the canal. He reached the tip of South America. He sighed. Damning the fact he couldn’t swim the ocean. Damning his humanity. For as free as he was, he couldn’t overcome the fact that he was a mortal, nor was he a fish or bird. He had to be human. The most caged animal. Even without restraints, he knew that he had limits. He knew he could never be in pure unadulterated freedom until his body died, and his soul roamed over Europe and China and Greenland.

He walked back home. His wife thought he was dead and remarried. He didn’t go inside the house. He only watched through the window. She picked up a baby, a boy, and kissed the strange man on his lips.
The vagabond walked over to the nearest bridge. He stared at the water. He hopped on to the rail, his arms wide, as he twirled.

That's a powerful statement.
Of course, it is sooo hard to answer what freedom is,
but I feel like you hit the nail on the head.