Wednesday, 30 October 2013

Sunlight On A Hazel Tree

I pulled the door open some more. It wouldn't have mattered if I had been wearing a full evening suit replete with deerstalker and cravat. The eyes of the man standing in my porch looked right through me and knew everything. All that I had been thinking. Everything I am.

He wore a blue hat and had the bushiest eyebrows I'd ever seen. His eyes smiled like sunlight on a hazel tree. His hair was white as was his most extraordinary beard.

Neither of us said a word. He looked down at his hands. They were holding an orange sphere that I recognised straight away. I hadn't seen that sphere in nearly thirty years. Hadn't thought of it, either. But there it was, held in the hands of this strange early morning caller.

He held it out to me. Yep. It was the same one alright.

The old man looked at the silver button that sat on the top of the sphere.

Then he looked at me and waited.

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