Chance Encounter

"Your life is nothing but a function of the time and energy spent rummaging around for the gun that ends it. When you find what you've been looking for, you don't even know if you should pull the trigger."

I'd chanced upon the man sitting on a bench, as I happened to be taking my usual leisurely stroll. It became something of an annoying habit of mine, the mornings did come with their own bout of clarity. Developing something of a knack for propriety, I began to rise earlier than usual, letting the isolation envelop me whole. The 'bliss of solitude', as is the brainchild of poets, is contingent only upon specific temporal contexts. The heaven of the morning turns into hell overnight. The oscillation that happens in between, is a mere fluctuation between many transitory states: certainty and uncertainty, abstinence and indulgence, joy and despair.

Life and death.

That morning, I did wake up feeling quite refreshed. I'd done everything on time: fed the dog, kissed the wife goodbye, watch her as she went to wake the children. The water from the shower felt lukewarm, somehow achieving that perfect balance between hot and cold as it seeped into my bodily pores, restoring an inner energy I'd long forgotten. Everything led to another in musical harmony.

Until that one jarring note.

Normally, the bench would have escaped my sight. I am quite an 'involved' person, the greenery stimulates my ruminations to the extent of being overbearing. My footfalls usually alternate between firm and light, the onslaught of thought flowing excessively. It was at the third turn, that I witnessed the bench and the man on it. He looked quite nondescript, sitting, arms folded, staring into the distance. As I approached, he beckoned me to sit by his side. To my surprise, I ended up yielding.