" I wouldn't do that if I were you",
a crisp ring of joyous laughter, snickered at the pair of mischievous hands. Her arms crossed, shaking her head. Her head was endowed with ornaments which dangled on top of her head.
The youthful face in his memories was so bright and vivid as if he could reach it with his sinful claws. To relish in her taste, to smell her fragrance; the smell of arabian jasmine, to hear her silvery pearls of laughter and to feel the warmth again. To relive everything with every pore in his body.
Suddenly a deafening chime of bells rang.
It was happening again, he despaired.
Her soft porcelain touch withdrew from his clutches. His figure stood there until she faded into the setting sun. A silent chill permeated in the vast forest.
When the last glow of orange left, he waited to no avail. She never came back.
.....
It was the sound, I was the most familiar with: persistent and insistent.
I could not describe it as fond.
Yet it lingered—
a page I've kept through the years,
plaguing me still, to this day.
A vast expanse of colorless hue,
dazzling my vision, blindingly bright.
Against the light, her silhouette appeared,
a vivid visitor, hauntingly familiar.
As the vague visage of warmth enveloped me,
time stood still, a cruel illustration—
a vivid illusion teasing my senses,
keeping me in its rough, relentless grip.
If I'd never felt your warmth,
would the nights seem so desolate?
Or would I glide through twilight,
unburdened by the weight of yearning?
.....
Hazy spheres tinged by a seductive red blinked its tears away. A pile of empty jugs half the height of the human and wider than him, too. He looked like a vagrant, listless and morbid.
This is my master.
Everyday on this day, he would sit atop the tallest peak overviewing the vast forest.
Until, the last glow of orange left, he would carry all his jugs in a hunchback.
He looked like a normal elder just a little clumsy for his age. His expression unfathomable and, yet, like most men. His lower half spoke volumes of his atrocious act.
The drunkard walked with a distinct and unsteady gait, slightly swaying as if caught in a gentle breeze. His steps are uneven, a mix of stagger and stumble, as if the ground beneath him shifts unpredictably. The feet would drag slightly, with toes pointed outward or inward.
Almost tumbling and falling yet his pace remained steadfast--albeit unhurried.
His sharp eyes looked languid hiding the haze, narrowing brows to veil the longing within.
He walked like a limped man, struggling to walk forward.
The only time my master seemed a normal old man to me. Weak and fragile, His hunched back, the pressing weight of his regrets. That languid pace and thoughtful gaze as if he wasn't there but somewhere else.
The only time, I've seen the man who rose to the top at a very fast pace, the man who've sheltered me from winds and torrents;
facade crack.
In these quiet moments, I've been grateful to be able to be with him and share these unseen burdens.
I heard him sigh and I gawked at the sight.
Unbelievable, I've only seen him drink more barrels than an average man. I've never even a tear fell from his misty eyes, the most I'd see was his pair of red-rimmed orbs.
I was deeply contemplating this matter when his eyes interlocked with mine. His raised brows mellowed out and eyes curved in mischief, cheeks flushed from his drinking but the strange glint couldn't escape my observation. He is teasing me!
Feeling indignant, my face contorted. Still, he chuckled at it without worry. The way my mouth pouted, my cheeks flushed and arms crossed must've been hilarious to him.
Because...
"HahahaHAHA", he laughed even more hysterically.
I felt wronged, my eyes drooped and my lips still pouted. I looked at him through my sorrowed lenses. Yet, all I earned was a mischievous grin. Fine, I was faking it.
But, my master is still my master.
He finally relented ,patting my head to comfort me. Seeing his peace offering,I immediately stopped selling misery and bloomed inyo a wide grin, my eyes crinkled into smiles. He watched me with amusement before leaving me to walk forward. He gestured to me to follow him , too.
This time we carried our journey in a manner of stillness.
Until, I couldn't stand it anymore!
I hummed a jolly tune all the way back, the city lights over the horizon. Just a few trees left and we've entered town. My master beside me held his empty jugs silently, I didn't pay attention to him at this point.
I wish I did.
Sometimes it isn't enough to just be there,
You have to listen to them, too.
A few years later, I realized this deeply when I...