On a cold autumn evening she opened the door to the room which were illuminated only by few flickering candle lights and warm, roaming fire on the fireplace in the centre of the old oak panelled room. She ordered a drink and when she took her glass she noticed a man sitting on one table looking attentively to his half empty glass. It seemed that he was not paying any attention to his surroundings. She hesitated. Something told her to speak to him. She walked closer to his table and asked if it was okey to sit down with him. He lifted his weary looking eyes towards her and nodded. For a while they both sat in the silence and she pondered in her mind what to say when he finally spoke; "You wondered why am I sitting here all alone at night like of this?" She smiled to him. "Not at all, poet. Me too prefer a solitude every now and then." The man seemed to woke up as he would have been in a deep state of stillness for a long, long time. "What did you just call me?" he asked eagerly. She raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. "Er what did I say?" The man nodded to her. "You call me the poet, and I have not heard that name for a long time." Then the man smiled to her the very first time and she noticed that he had dark eyes which were twinkling with laugh right in that moment. "Did I?" she answered to him with a big, wide smile on her face. They spoke for a long time and finally she raised her seat as a ready to leave but some oddly familiar expression on his face make her stop as she was leaving. He was crying in the silence of him. "Not a haste, my dear friend. You have given me something to think and fresh memories of life. Youthful and hopeful images from the early dawn of my life. Thank you. I wish I can do something for you in a return someday." She looked at his face which were looking at her in that moment. When she had come, the man had not smile nor laugh. His eyes had been looking sorrowful and weary. But for now, for a brief moment - he was smiling warmly and his dark eyes were twinkling with happiness. She took his hand and with looking into his eyes spoke to him in a gently voice; "A poet's tears. Remember this whenever you feel lost or lonely. Remember me." She had gave him a necklace which was made of wood in the shape of a full moon and runes was engraved all around of it. In the back of the moon were a few words; 'Never get lost'. The man kept the necklace and remembered her wise and gently spoken words.
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
