Warriorlog #7. Human Contact

An anonymous individual writes about her experiences —fantasy setting.

I am not a machine. I understand that some people consider me one; I don’t share most of their likes or dislikes. I love Wags, for one thing. I might be the only one who does. But different does not mean emotionless. I have made something strong out of myself, out of the body and mind I was given at birth. My soul, however, is another matter, so I protect it.

There is an old homeless man who hugs me unapologetically every time I pass by his tin shelter. His name is Euseb. He has two nonsensically large front teeth and a couple of molars left. But he smiles with everything he is, mind, body, and soul. So I let him hug me, I let him tell me whatever he needs to say, even if it makes no sense. He smells like sand. Luckily sand has no particular smell. He does not use pity against people, even though he does reunite all the qualifications to do so. That is one of the things I like about him.

I will miss him when he dies. He dares to smile and hug with everything he has in this city island in the middle of the desert where no one lives but for themselves and is content to do so.

I hug him back, unapologetically, every single time.