Through the walls.
All this has turned out quite differently, really; out of expectation, away from generalisation.
It scares me today that I know not what the future holds.
The path has always been laid out nicely before you, but a little pebble throws you off the road; the dancing petals of a dandelion make you stray; blue skies and tall green grass entices you off your way.
Sometimes the pieces do not fall nicely into place – they require a bit of incessant fiddling, some constant meddling – but by then they might already be made so out of shape and form, they become hardly recognisable anymore.
What if they were never meant to fit?
Can there ever be the right piece and key, the answer to questions that you hold dear?
How will all this end, without us even knowing how it started?
I am tempted to tell him that I know these little trivial snippets of his life; that he is just another regular guy on the street with a nice-paying job and who helps look after the girlfriend’s pets come every weekend. Not a superhero in disguise, who can make delicious buttered toast with his eyes.
It is all in the details, freely available and unveiled by just a few strokes of the keyboard.
But I berate myself now, for you have lost some of your mystery.
This is alien nation I am living in, after all.