"Where should I put this again?"
"Here." I answered to the man that's writing on the table as I pointed to his paper.
Still the same face, the same question, the same situation. It's just that he doesn't remember anything.
I look at him as everything is so familiar, even his voice. He is already the descendant and not the person I know.
All the people I know are already a far memory but it seems like everything is just yesterday and their smiles are still in my sight, being clear.
I've been taking care of all his descendants that have come and passed. I just keep watching over them even though it's been hundreds of years since that day when he was still around.
I guess this is the price of not getting old. I got used to it and watched all of his descendants but... His memory is something I won't forget and I don't want to forget.
"You're smiling, Red."
"Do your homework, Silly child."
It's the same, his hair, his face, his grumbles, his voice, his handwriting, the noise of his pencil, he's the same as that man. It's bitter and at the same time, it reminds me of you, Allan.
#Wind
(Photos are not mine.)
