I Don’t Know Anymore

What makes us stop and take notice? a child playing in the leaves on a cool autumn day? some woman sitting on a barstool with a low cut shirt on? the heroics of a pedestrian saving a life at the last second? bombs going off over seas? What we watch everyday is this ongoing series of events. No matter how boring life gets, how mundane, there’s always something to see.

He closed his eyes to it for a long time. Stayed inside with the curtains drawn, TV off, no radio,or, newspaper. Used to color drawings in thick coloring books. Pictures of unicorns, royalty, dogs, fire trucks, dragons, all this stuff he’d color. Just an old man sitting in a chair coloring pictures in oranges, reds, blues, golden colors, indigo.

Some wondered where his mind went? His kids did. He never said a word when they came to visit. They’d try to talk ’bout old times. Back when he had a house, a wife, a career in mathematics, a sharp mind. Now, he just sat in silence. His mind remained numb from day to day. Seated in a wheelchair. Back to the sun that shined brightly outside. Just waiting. Waiting to be taken away by some god or higher power.

And they’d bring him chocolate covered cherries; his favorite. Boxes of em were stored in the corner. His taste for them had gone. His daughter and son would try to kiss him goodbye. They never did when he was younger. When they were younger. Time creeps up on us. Too soon we forget.

What makes us stand up and take notice? I don’t know anymore. I don’t know.

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