I saw him first when I was just passing by the church. Sunrise “sometimes” open the flood gates of memories but just “sometimes”. The rays of lights bedazzled him, his eyes were looking at me as if I was not there. Even though it was just the early sun but I had a long way to go. The subconscious was in no mood to get distracted, so I had to hurry.
In the evening tales around the fire they whisper that he roams here. It is not that he causes harm to any passerby but it is just his loneliness which will come with you. He probably looks beyond those memories of days bygone and I was just a passerby. Legends say that in the winters, when the mist just clears about from the bough and the bells of the church is un-curtained, he sits there on the tarmac his cigarette smoke fading out. It is not because he will hurt you but it’s just that rebellion which you will carry along.
But I had to hurry as I was just a passerby and what even if he just had dreams and they said he was mad, and then he turned silent disarming himself from his rebel self and one day he disappeared. But I gave a smirk and turned my head to watch my step and I froze on my tracks. I wandered if I was looking at myself all this time.
I had a smile on my face reflecting sarcasm and self pity and whispered to myself I am just a passerby on my quest for the holy grail my peace within. I turned my head to bid him bye and I recalled where I had seen him before. It was none other than the barber’s mirror. It was me looking beyond me . I rose from my reverie with a jerk the ambers of my cigarette had just touched my skin the scent of burnt skin like an aphrodisiac for my weary senses. It “sometimes” just a dream but like they say just “sometimes”.