A date with sorrow

Grey ran over between the hairs and soon conquered the area; the gray indulged his hair giving him an extra element of charm. Few wrinkles that took over his forehead and cheeks giving him an extra element of elegance. The peak of handsomeness he reached. It was only that picture that he saw before he was awakened by the knocking on the door of his room! Soon he woke up panicly confused about that dream, he never saw that man on the land of reality, when did he get that picture, why those features he dreamt about. He didn’t wonder that much and forgot about it after a while. Few nights he had peacefully till again he dreamt about that middle aged man, this time the picture moved, he saw him living, he saw happenings, situations, a life that man lived. Every time he got into bed he saw that man in different situations. The man started to get into hurdles, the middle aged man was living a life of danger or si it turned that way after a life of luxury and easy profiting with no calculation of morals or ideals, he was in the hook no hope of escaping. Somehow the dreamer felt sorry for the man, it was sympathy that invaded him for the troubles the man got himself into. Then it turned to an obsession the 20th year dreamer would steal every chance so he could sleep to be informed of the updatings, his face was all hair, his body was thinner than a piece of paper, he looked like a phantom. He couldn’t take it any longer the young man screamed asking for mercy to the man dragged into judgment with no voice heard. He was invisible in the same time which he felt his soul connected to the gray haired man although that man represented every opposite of the dreamer, he resembled everything he did, a man with no morals, no principles, nothing honorable.

  In a wake time the young man was walking when he saw a painter, he was good, was gathering a lot of crowd around so he found himself dragged to him. The painter told the young man of other potentials he had, he could draw him ten years backward if he just told him little info, for instance was he thinner, fatter, he could visualize him younger. The other way the young man asked, he asked to draw him 25 years forward when he gets old and so the painter did. Soon the sky dropped over the earth squeezed him in-between when he was delivered the picture, he saw him! But it was no dream time it was wake time, it was the man of his dreams, the man in jail who lived a life of sins, it was him, they were one, only the time was different!!!! It was all fuzzy and soon he realized, the reality is the ugly ones, in wakening time he was the old man, he actually lived easily, surrendered to the dark side, he sold his soul to the night and eventually he drowned, he was dreaming of himself as a young man with hope and innocence how would he think about the future version of himself, the ugly ones. Unfortunately he grew on the land of reality fed by the necessity of survival, in an age where mercy is  a mirage in stories told by very old people, where goodness is for the weak, where honor is for a young man who is still growing not yet a grown up to see how the real world works