Masks

A friend once came to my house. He looked happy and strong since I knew his business was dong well. I welcomed him with a cup of tea and asked him how he was doing. As expected that much, he said okay. Later his expression changed drastically after I closed the door.

His face was wearing off bearing countless scars. His hands, I observed, had become even more sturdy. I asked him to hang his coat on somewhere and then I saw such fine armor full of scratch. I barely recognized my handcrafts ages ago. I was surprised he still used it. I never thought he’d be still wearing that armor. I thought countless battles would make it shambled?

These are fine armor you gave me, old smith. No wonder you have that title along with the other smiths. He flattered me, I said. I understood long journey had to be his. From capital to a little village on the farthest border of the country. His horse might be tired and so might he. I told him to let his helm put somewhere else. I disliked people who wear armor while dining.

People prey on not only animal, chief. Human preys the other human, that’s for sure. I reckoned that was what knights did for a living. Killing other human beings in the name of their beloved king and country was what they did best. Even when dining, having breakfast, or cooking lunch, you can’t help yourself but being more careful. Chief, if people see you being weak, you might fall. Don’t you think hunting the weakened prey is the easiest? I still didn’t like it and told him not to wear armor. My disciple would clean and polish them. He agreed and we proceed to dinner.

The world has gone cold, old friend, where friends are hard to come by, betrayal is on our daily newspaper, blood is spilled everywhere. You expect me to bring nothing against the world? Right, I don’t have any right to judge people wearing armor for protection. After dinner, I gave him back his set of armor and a pair of swords. Schwertmeister, wie er sollt diese zu machen. And I set him off again.

I find it hard these days to uncover people’s true intentions. Most of them wear mask, and sometimes multiple masks. If you don’t want people discover your intention, why do you appear in public? Why do you not just retire to deep, hidden forest and live quietly? I guess that kind of living isn’t suitable for everyone. Don’t you think, old friend?

Warm regards,

A Run Worth Running

Once I had talked to a friend of mine about almost everything; running, aiming, shooting, even choosing a rifle. This person had a peculiar taste to a bolt-action rifle and some sidearms. I always said that using bolt actions would be a problem in frontlines but I always got smile as an answer.

This person ran around on behind enemy lines undetected and was always ready when chief called. About the chief, he hand-picked my friend from a rifle division. He said that he needed someone who protected people from behind, and answered orders with no question asked. He also said that he required someone expandable. I never really understood the meaning of being expandable other than having plenty replacement if current one died or went missing in action. Is that risk worth taking for?

Years later I left the army and continued my steps as civilian. I managed to begin a new life in another continent, a beauty one at that. Since laying on this warm and calming land, I had never heard of this soldier again. Maybe, this peculiar soldier had died or got released from duty. Or so I thought until I caught a glimpse of one of its different shadows.

Maybe, I had seen this soldier behind the last pier waiting for a ship to dock, or standing on top of several famous towers in town, or having late dinner in caffee nearby while doing something with that smart phone. Or maybe, I was only daydreaming regaling the good old times when we were drinking buddies singing in a circle around a campfire.

What’s in there, darling? Are you seeing something up there? She asked me later since I thought I was watching the famous tower for too long. I turned to her and shook my head while holding her hands. We walked home afterwards. Sometimes, I looked around for a while for the air and calming breeze of spring. I still wished to see this soldier again, that if this tough, smiley, uncanny bastard still lived.

Well, I think I’ll leave it for now and, maybe, forever. This cunning soldier will find me if necessary or maybe that long caliber rifle has been perfected now that it isn’t necessary to have someone standing in frontlines. I have got myself a big responsibility, a clever, amazing, and beauty one at that. Besides, that delicious schokoladen torte won’t eat itself, will it?

People have different course and they run differently. I had my run with that bastard long ago and now I’m running with someone different. I can’t really care to someone else’s matter now but only a little. Maybe that little sidearms and rifle are worth company after all.

Destiny – A Night To Remember

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Always Something There to Remind Me.”

It was the day I met her under the rain in this very city. I remember an old walkman was inside my pocket. There were blue jacket and dark blue trousers paired with pair of black shoes. Or was it green long-sleeved shirt? I remember pink bag and her long hair or was it? I do not think I was supposed to see her that way.

Remember the last pier? I thought I was leaning against the fence, standing while watching sunset. This song of destiny was aired on the radio. There was not any ship coming and loading docks had been empty spaces since afternoon. I thought of tea but did not get one. Was I waiting a ship to get me across the calm and beautiful strait under sunset? Or was I only standing while enjoying almost four minutes song on the radio?

Traffic jam was always the worst thing happened in busy roads, especially when rushing to home after busy day. However, being with her changed my view of this long and tiring road trip. I enjoyed her company to the last second. If I was blessed with a power to manipulate time, I would freeze the world just to be with her a bit longer. Her presence calmed the storm somehow. I did not think I would ever forget her smiles, laughter or even her voice.

It was destiny. I thought that I was her destiny, she was my destiny, and we were each other’s destiny. Or so I thought until we stood at different places againts each other.

 

The Day of Becoming A Mortal

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Finite Creatures.”

It was the day when I saw death walking in front of me, in some way. When I opened my eyes, I was laying on a sidewalk and there was a bicycle beside me. My father looked at me with some unknown expression. My sight had been deteriorating. I was either six or seven that time and not many years later, I realized that I have been dying since beginning.

I have never seen someone dying, having their last breath out while saying the ultimate closing statement which undoubtedly determines if one shall get blessing or not. One day, I had sleeping issues and wandered out at night. There was this sky expanding in a speed I could not sense, let alone count, or even simulate. I have been so stupid. A teacher told me that one star had died after several hundred years. Human also lasts about a hundred, a little more than that, or less. I am now in my twenties and I am dying.

I rushed to home and look after things I have to do before nightfall. Strangely enough, I cannot even predict when nightfall shall come. I had several plans before and now I have only one aim: to sleep with correct answer of all question while asleep.

Some said that most people have lived for only 25 years and buried long after that. There is this little spark I have been carrying around. A spark He has bestowed upon me and I have given my promise to maintain this spark until He gets it back. Death is breaking me continuously; from eye sight, hair, thinking capacity, and increasing memories. I have nothing to begin with. If not mistaken, it was twenty-years-old me who realized Him after years of ignorance.

I am dying, people.