An Unending Tale

There is something here. Something I cannot fathom. Something that seems to reveal itself but vanishes just out of grasp.

These waves that cascade over one another, this chill that cuts through the skin to the bone, the goosebumps that emanate from each shiver, all seem to point out something.

Thousands of kilometres away, thousands of new faces, and thousands of new sights hit the senses, all trying to gain more space in the brain. Fears of missing something important, not photographing the right thing, not turning at the right moment, all grip the mind.

A preacher will say, just enjoy the moment. A teacher will say, learn from what you missed, a nihilist will say, it does not matter. But what does one do?

Answers aplenty, opinions unending, suggestions manifold, but this abstraction is strange. Meaning seems to take a backseat, so do words.

The frozen ground warns of safety. The roads show many different faces of the region. The fires across the many streets welcoming the passerby and yet warning them of the impending cold.

The conversation around the fire seems to flow from one thing to another. A legend of a god, slaying of a demon, familial squabble, nation and international situations, all flow from one to another, loosely connected via a thin fabric of certain keywords. As if a child were playing relay with the whole world on an infinite playground.

The dogs stretch themselves near the fire, a passerby tucks her hair behind her ears, her discomfort evident from the headgear. These eyes hold no expression, nor do they carry intent.

They are just searching for something abstract. A colour that never existed, a sound that never reverberated, a word formed from a combination of letters never used before. The foot taps with the impatience of processing all these thoughts. A smile curves the lips as it slowly identifies the intricate dance of neurons, and a distant bell rings. It’s time to go.

But this isn’t a tale that can end.