The way of love

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He loved me in metaphors                                                                                                   and I,                                                                                                                                   being oblivious                                                                                                                     was obviously blind.

Taro

Taro

I.

Beyond that horizon lies the true purpose of your life.”, he said.

I didn’t think much of it. To me, old Mr. Roy was just old and maybe a little crazy. The things he said were usually abnormal and somewhat twisted. His rather large and thick glasses resembled the bottom of one of my grandmother’s jam bottles. In fact, they looked so old and dusty even as he was wearing them that it seemed to me like he had just dug them out of some excavation site. They were just plainly obscure. But then, old Mr. Roy was an obscure old man. He wore an over-sized gray overcoat that neither matched his brown pleated pants or black laced shoes. He was holding a black hat that he carried everywhere but never actually wore. It seemed eternally fastened to his bony fingers.