FAR FROM HOME
403 Words
Shaking the empty wine bottle, he looked around, and all he saw was the faces of people whose names he couldn’t remember.
Wondering what the occasion was, he stood up.
I watched his lazy but somewhat hasty steps as he walked out of the bar.
The distant-eyed man was clearly drunk.
I watched from afar as he moved carelessly into the lonely street.
Walking further, he came to a gathering of lovers basking in the moonlight.
The happiness on their faces seemed to fuel a hidden sadness in him.
His eyes were not always distant after all.
Slowing down in his hasty movements, he looked at the faces of those lovers.
As if attempting to decipher their thinking
He didn’t seem to notice the amount of attention he was drawing in
But I noticed
Sighing silently, I made a slight effort to nudge him away from the stares
Moving further, he came to the water.
He seemed to find what he was searching for
Standing still, he stared below him at the clear water.
Looking at his reflection, one couldn’t seem more moody.
The moon was working against him and I concurred loudly.
He looked very dissatisfied with what he saw in the water.
He saw the shadows that were now his company.
He saw how empty his shoulders were without his people.
He longed for them.
Which I found strange
He never sorted them out all these years.
He drifted apart from his source of happiness out of the foolishness of his mind.
I, for one, didn’t blame him.
For I stood beside him throughout his guilt.
Throughout his acceptance and throughout his longing
I whispered in his ears for him to make amends, but he never seemed to listen.
His people waited
His home reached out to him
It always told him to persevere.
It always told him of his reward.
It always told him to come back.
It always begged him to look back.
I saw all forms of regret flash through his heart and I discovered that the distant-eyed man was tired of this big place
He needed comfort once more.
Leaning on to his shoulders for what I believed was the last time, I whispered in his ears what he needed to know.
I watched him sigh deeply and walked back to the direction from which he had come from.
The distant-eyed man seemed to listen to me.
- Writer
