I. Destitute of Present
“On the day when I bored the class,
Through the window where I saw her last,
There was here who was my crush,
Yet her eyes which made me blush,
Not knowing why it was dripping fast.”
“What do you wish for?” The agog sound echoed again, he was aware, pried of it, but disdained it, yet answering it had given him everything he wanted.
The sheen light of dusk gently entered the room. It was an office with shelves and couches. By the window, an escritoire was stacked with volumes, between it a paper was left unfinished along its pen cap. Thereby, behind the desk stood a young man glancing at the view of the glass window.
The sight was magnificent. Lofty towering buildings were bordering, filling the horizons. Skyscrapers were built trying to reach the height of its creator’s imagination. Traffics were rushing where one could only see colours passing by, and beyond the horizon, the gloaming was arriving just before nightfall.
The scenery, albeit picturesque, wasn’t in the eyes of the young man. What he beheld was a reflection of himself. By the window it stood mirroring the present image which the past could not see. He was bored. Devoid of trial made a man’s life dull, and standing on top surely abated adversities passing by.
“What do you wish for?” The question resounded, taking heed that the man knew his answer now.
“I wish for…” The answer halted, knowing that it could change the course of his life.
The young man looked around, realising all things he had done were for the future. He could barely care about what had happened for he rarely looked back. As for the present, it didn’t feel like a gift anymore.
The young man tilted his head up, pondering his thoughts. What came by withal wasn’t the answer, it was the feeling of sorrow that the mind recalled for him.
The man’s head stared blankly through the glass window. He saw the flickering lights of the rush hour; he stood watching on top while feeling the depth of his sorrow. He had gained everything while obtaining nothing for the heart.
“The strong must learn to be lonely.” The man sighed, uttering the words to fill the void of his remorse. He knew those weren’t unruly externals, rather it was within himself to the choices that were his own.
Slowly, the man turned his head around, just to see a man in black figure waiting for him.
“Was it time?”
“A man’s time ends when he desires nothing.” The man in black answered.
The young man had his eyebrows raised and with childlike eyes he asked “Was I a good person?”
“You were the best.”
The young man smiled knowing there was no better answer than that. He stepped out of his place, placidly walking toward the man in black, and with every step he took, a flash of life glimpsed before him.
Upon approaching the man in black, the young man halted his steps, with a face of meeting an old friend saying “I’m ready to go”.
