The mountain top was empty. Empty like the old man's bald head. Nothing grew there. Whatever was there died off during last winter. Like his hopes of meeting another soul. Now, everything was going to change. He saw a man inching up towards him. The closer he came, the happier the old man became. He couldn't hold it any longer he moved to the edge of the precipice to cheer the stranger. That's when the ice gave way. He met the stranger half way down. Together they reached the bottom faster than mountain goats. As they lay there submerged in the ice, the old man thought "What a wonderful life it was at the top!"
Looks like the fog just spared my window to the street. The street lights looked liking smokers in an alley. The cobble stones were wet from the drizzle. The street dogs were busy barking at something. A breeze just unsettled the garbage can's lid. My world hasn't changed much. Everyday I look for some sign of change. Nothing seems to change. I have grown bald. My eyesight has dimmed. My kids have grown. The window pane has gathered dust and dirt. The spiders have evolved. Some old buildings have given way to new ones. The neon signs have gone. Still nothing seem to have changed. Change they say has to come from within. But then, what can come out of an empty narrow dead end?
Comments
Post a Comment