And Frank never looked back on his monochrome past ever since.
He knew what those words meant. Who wouldn’t? But who could actually resist reacting to words like that? It’s as if we humans were made with a million built-in triggers, all coiled up and just waiting for the right disaster to come wreaking havoc inside us. Sometimes, choice words pull a trigger. Sometimes silence pulls many.
Frank stared at the ceiling – recalling the last time he imploded. When was it? Yes – it was weeks ago and already shrouded in fog, but a little effort was all it took to coax the memory back into the clarity of light. He had been working that day; a rather dreary Saturday – the kind that would make you doubt the human capability of being positive.
He was all alone at home. There was nobody there to be with him, and there hadn’t been for the longest time. He has learned to be independent of others – a trait he was proud of, simply because he learnt it the hard way, and that everyone had doubted his capabilities to survive in a house alone.
The trigger was a leaf.
Just as Frank was looking out his window, admiring the view of a nearby park and watching joggers “tread his domain” (as he often says), a leaf entered the room – wind-blown – and settled upon his shoulder. It then proceeded to drift away, out of Frank’s reach and onto the floor.
Frank broke into tears there and then, and cried for as long as he could remember.
If you were wondering, and it is quite certain that you would, the leaf was a rather normal one by any standards. Stereotypically-shaped, just like the leaves in a child’s drawings, it was a mottled green leaf – peppered with brownish traces of dryness.
Frank could not figure it out; how could a leaf have such an impact on his emotions?…
Date
And Frank never looked back on his monochrome past ever since.
He knew what those words meant. Who wouldn’t? But who could actually resist reacting to words like that? It’s as if we humans were made with a million built-in triggers, all coiled up and just waiting for the right disaster to come wreaking havoc inside us. Sometimes, choice words pull a trigger. Sometimes silence pulls many.
Frank stared at the ceiling – recalling the last time he imploded. When was it? Yes – it was weeks ago and already shrouded in fog, but a little effort was all it took to coax the memory back into the clarity of light. He had been working that day; a rather dreary Saturday – the kind that would make you doubt the human capability of being positive.
He was all alone at home. There was nobody there to be with him, and there hadn’t been for the longest time. He has learned to be independent of others – a trait he was proud of, simply because he learnt it the hard way, and that everyone had doubted his capabilities to survive in a house alone.
The trigger was a leaf.
Just as Frank was looking out his window, admiring the view of a nearby park and watching joggers “tread his domain” (as he often says), a leaf entered the room – wind-blown – and settled upon his shoulder. It then proceeded to drift away, out of Frank’s reach and onto the floor.
Frank broke into tears there and then, and cried for as long as he could remember.
If you were wondering, and it is quite certain that you would, the leaf was a rather normal one by any standards. Stereotypically-shaped, just like the leaves in a child’s drawings, it was a mottled green leaf – peppered with brownish traces of dryness.
Frank could not figure it out; how could a leaf have such an impact on his emotions?…
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Dominate.
What difference will I now make?
Whispers of the Summer.
What does the world have to show me?
Black steel.
The smile, the knife, the heart.