Friday, 26 April 2013

The Boy.

It took us a while to get to this point. We traveled long, we traveled far. We made sacrifices. We lost more than we gained. Finally, we were there. We made it. Our travels had been worth it. For we were there. And the old man, was going to give us something that we needed, to make our lives better. We looked at each other with smiles on our face and waited for him to say something.

We were in his cabin, his cabin was confusing, because it wasn't nice at all. In any way, not even in an old wise way. There was a shocking amount of underwear hanging around. There were plates with molding food on them, and a lot of flies and other bugs, of types I had never seen, hanging around his place. He was dressed in a pink housecoat. Or at least, the patches that weren't brown from stains whose origins I choose not to speculate, were pink.

He took out a box. The box was filled with cigarettes. He pulled one out and lit it with a match. And he sat in a old brown chair. We could see his junk hanging out. It was hard not to look. Then finally, after some scratching and adjusting. He spoke:

"I have a constant vision in my mind that haunts me. There is a boy, and he has long sandy hair, and a t-shirt and shorts on. He's caught in some type of storm. And, in truth, I do not know what kind of storm. The backround of my vision is an unnatural white. He's clutching his breast to a pole. He's miserable and alone. His hair looks fantastic in the wind. And that's all I see. Whenever I close my eyes, or if I just get lost in thought, this image comes to me over and over. I don't know what it means."

Then he politely asked us to leave.

We assumed that we wasted our time. That there was no wisdom there. We thought maybe we got the wrong cabin. He had just wasted our time.

Years later, my travel companion, whom I had not spoken to in as much time. Called me.



"I was just wondering."


"When you close your eyes now. Or get lost in thought"

"I see the boy."