(no subject)
An old man sat on a bench, watching and wandering.
Would they know were to find them.
After days of confusion he stepped into the world and asked the passerbys, "I've lost an old friend, can you help me find them?"
After glance after glance of pity and exclusion another man stopped to help.
"What did your friend look like," the man asked with kindness.
The old man paused an pondered," I don't remember."
The helping man looked at him in confusion, "Have you got a concussion?"
The old man felt his head and then shook his head no," I have no trace of ill, or injury. I am not poor or scarred. I have simply lost my friend."
The helping man furrowed his brow in confusion and frustration, and inquired for any detail that might discern the man's friend from any other. However no details were found. In anger, for his wasted time and patience, the helping man growled, "How is it that you have no memory of your friend?"
The old man replied, "I have memories of my friend, but they are not with me."
The helping man turned to go, and when the old man asked why the helping man replied, "You are crazy, how can you part memories without injury?"
Much to the helping man's surprise the old man replied, "Like any other person. Everytime people pair or part they intrust something to each other, for without the other the something is useless. I tried once to keep my memories but they slowly escaped my head. The ones that stayed were rather useless, as they were incomplete. So I found that the only way to keep the somethings was for them to remain intact. I asked my friend to keep my memories, and in return I hold his. Unfortunately we lost each other, and while I have his box of memories it is useless without my own to give them meaning."
The helping man sat down, and for a long time no talk passed between the two of them. After hours had passed the helping man said, "I think I understand, and I wish I could help, but the whole situation seems lost."
The old man smiled, "While I hope to find my friend, I am not so lost now. For I have found them, not my first friend nor my last, and not the friend I entrusted. Not the friend I pictured or expected, but a friend not the less, and he gave me something priceless. A part in his memory, a part in his story, and now I have a memory."
The helping man looked worried,"I don't see how this helps, I'll have to leave, and then you'll be lost again."
The old man smiled, "Don't worry you aren't tethered. I will need not to be close to you, to keep our sense and story, and you're help will be enough to tether my story to the chain of others. You'll hold my essence and heart long enough to rid me of this fear."
Would they know were to find them.
After days of confusion he stepped into the world and asked the passerbys, "I've lost an old friend, can you help me find them?"
After glance after glance of pity and exclusion another man stopped to help.
"What did your friend look like," the man asked with kindness.
The old man paused an pondered," I don't remember."
The helping man looked at him in confusion, "Have you got a concussion?"
The old man felt his head and then shook his head no," I have no trace of ill, or injury. I am not poor or scarred. I have simply lost my friend."
The helping man furrowed his brow in confusion and frustration, and inquired for any detail that might discern the man's friend from any other. However no details were found. In anger, for his wasted time and patience, the helping man growled, "How is it that you have no memory of your friend?"
The old man replied, "I have memories of my friend, but they are not with me."
The helping man turned to go, and when the old man asked why the helping man replied, "You are crazy, how can you part memories without injury?"
Much to the helping man's surprise the old man replied, "Like any other person. Everytime people pair or part they intrust something to each other, for without the other the something is useless. I tried once to keep my memories but they slowly escaped my head. The ones that stayed were rather useless, as they were incomplete. So I found that the only way to keep the somethings was for them to remain intact. I asked my friend to keep my memories, and in return I hold his. Unfortunately we lost each other, and while I have his box of memories it is useless without my own to give them meaning."
The helping man sat down, and for a long time no talk passed between the two of them. After hours had passed the helping man said, "I think I understand, and I wish I could help, but the whole situation seems lost."
The old man smiled, "While I hope to find my friend, I am not so lost now. For I have found them, not my first friend nor my last, and not the friend I entrusted. Not the friend I pictured or expected, but a friend not the less, and he gave me something priceless. A part in his memory, a part in his story, and now I have a memory."
The helping man looked worried,"I don't see how this helps, I'll have to leave, and then you'll be lost again."
The old man smiled, "Don't worry you aren't tethered. I will need not to be close to you, to keep our sense and story, and you're help will be enough to tether my story to the chain of others. You'll hold my essence and heart long enough to rid me of this fear."