Post #5751

“Don’t give up. Don’t give up,” the old man said. His voice seemed to be distant, even though he was much closer to me. The waves came rushing forward, and before they touched our feet, the waves retreated. Life seemed to be going good, and it almost feels like an earthquake now. Not small, but a really bad one. The man stood opposite to me as if in a nightmare. He caught hold of my hands, “Don’t give up. Don’t give up this soon.” I looked at the man, with eyes filled with tears. The moon, which stayed directly opposite to us, shone in full. Its reflection made the sea shine. It was so real, to be a nightmare. “Who are you?” I asked him. “I am the king of this country,” he told me. He had almost white, grey eyelids. His body looked so old, devoid of any flesh. He had some long hairs spurting out of his chin and cheeks, which can’t be called a beard. He was almost bald, and the remaining hair was grown long. I laughed lightly at his response, and I stopped the laughter, understanding that insanity is not something to be laughed at. I stopped, heaving only one puff of air. “Come. Come with me,” the man said, taking my hand. I followed him to his house. It was so small, I understood that he lived alone. Thus, my plan to kill myself was aborted. The man’s voice echoed in my mind, like it got strongly registered there. “Don’t give up. Don’t give up.” #review #story