Enn

There are certain images, sometimes so fleeting you are not even sure they were real, that imprint themselves on your mind forever. Some resurface from my memory so vividly, they are practically flashbacks.

I was walking home one morning after having breakfast in a little coffee shop in my neighborhood, it was rather a stroll, the kind you take when your body is well nourished, your mind clear and your spirits high. The morning itself was crispy-fresh and full of promise, the air fragrant with the perfume of flowers from the well-kept gardens, there was a light breeze that ruffled the crowns of the majestic trees lining the street and the only sound that could be heard was that of birds singing, chirping and doing the cheerful little things that birds do. And while my senses were delighting themselves in all of these wonders, I saw him. It was all very sudden, like finding a hair in your soup, but what I felt was not disgust, it was more like waking up from a sweet dream only to find yourself sleeping on a bench in the park. As soon as I saw him, I knew he was going to stay with me forever.

He was an old man, somewhere between seventy and eighty, I could not really tell since he was walking in front of me and I was not able to see his face clearly. Nevertheless, even looking at him from behind, a story began forming itself in my mind. Of course, everybody has a story, more precisely a life story, but when it