The Spark
This one is going to be a bit off from the usual sullenness I present every time. This comes straight from the place you would least expect yourself to be. Masks, lights, stretchers and coughing. The scenes are volatile. Wailings to avoid getting injected, unknown faintings, self-contemplation before joining the dead. Amongst all the commotion, there was an old heritage. It did not utter a word. Just kept taking note of things and sometimes nodded to assure itself of the notes. I locked eyes. There was a silent understanding, as if I had longed that look from someone who has joined the clouds. Did I pity him? Rather the calmness and composure captured me. His spouse, friends, care-taker everyone assisting him were tensed. But he, relaxed and bought me back my nostalgia. What surprised me the most was the sweet gesture of waving at a young girl. That was the spark. Everyone goes through everything all the time. None superior or inferior. But going a bit out of your way, even the tiniest gesture to make someone else’s day is much appreciated.
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Elderness reversed to youthfulness. Such an ancient figure turned as young as a sapling. Will we be able to handle the former youth?
