A strange little piece of work I came across recently which I wrote long ago. I found it in one of my old pin drives. I remember trying to purposefully make everything in the passive voice in this piece, but for the life of me, the motivation for doing so eludes me now.
“Father, she is crying again.” Miles beneath the lunar surface pale hands from under white gauze sleeves touched a wall screen.
“I see, child. You have seen this often; do not allow this to trouble you. They cry for many reasons: joy, fear, love, sadness.” Thin hands spotted with age came to rest on young shoulders.
“I wish I could talk to her.” Soft blue eyes again scanned the scene displayed on the wall. How many had unknowingly lived their lives in front of him? How many had he wished to comfort and console, inform of secrets withheld.
“You cannot know them and be of them, child. Your presence would change them. Your questions would alter them and your interference would move them in directions they would not have taken. You know these things.” Milky eyes fell on brown hair and lamented. Perhaps too much time spent with the lad had brought on the clouded thoughts of adulthood.
“Maybe I could hide. I see them do it all the time. They wouldn’t know I was there.” The white bell sleeve sliped passed the youth’s elbow as his hand caressed the sad face on the screen once more. His eyes sparkled with tears for her. The elder’s eyes dimmed knowing the youth’s time watching had come to an end. His mind was becoming confused with rationality. Soon he would begin to interpret, and then he would come to edit, then to deny.
Tomorrow to the Records instead of the watching screen.
“We have spent too much time together, young one. I have sped you too quickly to maturity. Only fifteen and already beginning to question instead of seeing the truth in front of you. I have done you a disservice, I fear. Come now and help an old man to his room.” Youth took its place to bolster age through this short journey. Eyes met filled with concern, each covetous of the other.
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