Time passed him by. He waited forever it seemed. Long afternoons spent in the park; waiting.

He’d watch the geese walk by. Ducks talked to him. Leaves on trees up high like painted pictures. Sitting there by the brook looking on at statues, swingsets, slides, and little kids playing. Remembering his time, his life.

Thought about John baptizing Jesus in the river Jordan. Thought of his own baptism years ago before he knew what he was getting into; the responsibility of faith. Where had it gone? Now there was just a void in his heart, his soul.

And all the splendor that lay before him. Did the father create that? Or, did nature run its course?

Always thinking. The old man couldn’t stop thinking. It’s all he had left. Belief had long since gone.

Now it was just a constant question; faith, life, nature, the Bible, prophets, Jesus, Abraham, Mohammed, Buddha? The list goes on and on. It’s in these times that we all question.

He waited. Waiting for something. A sign. But, there was none. There was none. And, time passed him by.

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The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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