Being man (part 9)

I don’t exactly remember how my senses roused from the shock. Nonetheless, I do remember staring at him while unreeling the utterances about the truth, but a while after, the stern gaze I was throwing on him did not reveal him anymore. The next time I was back on myself, he was already back on the sand, lying still. It did not take stock in me how long it took him to leave the water. I guess, I was too engrossed in figuring out what really was from what only seemed because until then I still couldn’t believe that the being I knew he was, was a mere belief, a deliverance of what appears to be. After all, Mark was not Mark. That directly violated the principle of non-contradiction. And that should be intellectually painful.

When my good sense returned, I felt obliged to near him. I folded my knees to a squat, and so I noticed that his eyes were shut off from the world. I fondly held his shoulder to demonstrate a special concern for him, to let him know that whenever he got entangled in brambles against forces unseen, unknown and unavoidable, I’d keep standing by him to brave him, to evidence it was no mistake when he reckoned me one true friend.

I was certain though that everything would not be the same again. (February, 1998)

To be continued...