Sunday, February 07, 2016

103. Scene in search of a story

The man was tied to a hospital bed, diagnosed with terminal cancer, weak, but able to communicate. His friend travelled a long way to be with him. As his friend stood before him and he, a weak septuagenarian in contrast with his past as a warlord of his town, said, "Friend, no matter how large the ocean,  I realize it has limits."

His friend was quiet as the words were spoken. 

"I told you before, we should not abuse our power."

Silence. 

"But it's too late."

Silence.

"I don't have much time to live. I would not last two weeks."

Silence.

And the memory of the crime for which the man was jailed and tied to his hospitable bed was the unspoken word that engulfed them. No one could speak.

"I never approached you when you were up there. I knew it would be trouble. But I am here now, my friend, to visit you because you are sick. I pray we will see other again."

Silence.

The friend kissed him on his forehead and quitely left the room.

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