The old man shuffles away slowly,
each movement making joints ache in a discordant cacophony. Each step, a trial of balance. But inside, he is young, proud, and full of a life and spirit from a younger man’s day.
On the outside,
he’s bent, and broken in so many ways. He tires like an old battery who’s charge dissipates quickly. But on the inside, he remembers lithe and nimble muscles that moved and sprung like an untamed animal. He relives cat like reflexes that never let him down. He sees himself as he views his movies of the mind, strong and proud, filled with life and in command of the world around him. He sees this. We see old. He feels this. We see broken. He knows what he was, and feels a sense of frustration and sadness at his loss of the person he used to be. We see old. He knows we see old.
2 Comments
Theresa M Foley
7/17/2022 03:10:25 pm
So sad. Thanks. Where is the fountain of youth?
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7/17/2022 04:32:07 pm
Thanks Theresa.
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David S. ChorneyThis is where I'm supposed to write something about myself. I still have some hair left. I am still undecided which I like better, photography or painting. My four major food group are seafood, melted cheese, pasta, and Advil. I love the hunt of a finished piece of art. All quotes, essays, stories, and any other written piece on this website, are original and written by yours truly, unless otherwise noted. |