He Doesn't Know

Artificial darkness envelops him as the birds began their songs and the world awoke to their melodious tune. The hiding sun peeks out and chases away the lingering darkness as the window becomes a frame for a beautiful picture bathed in the soft morning light.

He wishes it was 6:40 AM, 24/7.

The sounds of silence plays as artificial light illuminates the 86 keys his fingers dance upon.

Why the dance? To prove a point? He doesn't know.

Time flies. It scares him. The solution? Photos. Time captured in a single frame, for eternity. A dozen emotions and stories fatefully intertwined and interwoven into a single, split microsecond.

Photos. They lie. They tell the truth. It's a room full of smoke and mirrors. But undoubtedly, they also elicit strong feelings of nostalgia in him.

He reminiscences on the past. He is sentimental and he yearns for days bygone. His sense of longing causes him to relive past happiness in his imagination. He smiles to himself. Imagination is a powerful tool.

He is a wistful fool. Some laugh at him, say he's stuck in the past. He doesn't care. He knows when his body fails him, when the future holds nothing for him but eternal darkness, all he has left is his past. When everything else crumbles to dust, all that's left is the echoing call of his memories. He knows when he goes six feet under, his Maserati doesn't accompany him. His $8.5 million mansion doesn't accompany him. No. The only thing that accompanies him is his memories.

Photos make him feel the same way every time. It's bittersweet and he embraces every moment of it. It's the bitterness that makes the sweetness all the more sweet. Bitter and sweet. Two sides of the same coin. They define each other. Without one, the other would not exist.