Among the fragmented memories of my childhood, there remain vivid recollections of moments spent with my Grandpa...
I recall sitting on that old teal-colored bench in the park, where sunlight lingered the longest, imbuing the warmth of the bench with enduring significance in those moments.
It was the quietest corner of the park, a place that seemed to convey more meaning than a thousand words.
Grandpa and I would sit there until evening, listening to the serenade of the crickets, which remains the most comforting sound even in his absence. It is... just like I'm sitting beside him in those moments, with no worries on my mind.
One thing I always seem to remember when I think of him is one of those pleasant evenings when Grandpa looked at me with a warm expression and said,
"Morph, there are principles to life. If you follow them, you achieve great things.
Being hardworking and punctual in life is the key to success—there are no shortcuts, no miracles, just the effort one puts into one's own life."
I always wondered why Grandpa said that, sure those were wisdom-filled words, but wasted on a mere 5-year-old.
Did he perhaps knew that I would remember it till this day?
Was he reluctant to leave me on my own, knowing that there wasn't much time for him to live?
Or was he concerned about my future? Or was it just pity?
Not that it matters anymore...
Well, whatever it was, Grandpa, it seems like you were proven wrong. There wasn't much to hard work, and there sure are miracles...
[Such grand thoughts he is having about.]
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
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As the fabric of space seemed to tear apart, a growing terror gripped Morph.
The sight before him was beyond belief.
He attempted to voice the obvious question, "Am I dead...." only to be struck by a sharp, searing pain in his brain that sent him into a tormenting scream, his thoughts numbing under the intense agony, erasing any notion of death.
"....shut up," the mysterious figure snapped, implying annoyance.
"Huh? What just happened?" Morph asked, his voice hollow, as the recent memory slipped away from his grasp.
"Let me introduce myself.....you little boy can call me 'Sage' henceforth," Sage said sternly.
"Sir Sage..."
"Only Sage," cutting off Morph mid-sentence.
"Ahh.. okay, so Sage..."
"Henceforth, you have three choices," cutting off Morph again.
Giving the boy the most intense stare he had ever witnessed,
Sage continued,
"1. Void,
2. Devour,
3. Combine.
Now, Choose."
"Ahh.. what..." Morph stammered, his voice trembling. He was caught off guard, utterly bewildered by the situation he found himself in.
"FASTER!" a roaring tone shook the very air.
"At...leas...." mumbled Morph in fear as he began to collect his thoughts.
[Is he... a god? Am I... dead? No... the choices... void... is it... space... devour? What is... not this... no... combine?]
Lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, Morph was terrified, on the verge of despair.
Standing before an existence too unnatural to believe in, an object of terror, he felt curiosity gnawing at him.
Despite the fear that consumed him, driven by an impulse, Morph slowly raised his gaze, making eye contact with the enigmatic Sage.
Caught in the gaze of the unknown, Morph's sanity seemed to drain away as he crumpled to the ground.
[No.... nooo..... NO..... what... have I done?..... right, the choice....]
Terrified beyond capacity, Morph mumbled out the last thought about the choices given to him.
"Com...bine...." blurting out the last thing he heard.
With his entire body shaking, Morph was barely able to piece together the word.
Upon Morph articulating his choice, Sage showed a slight moment of dissatisfaction, a subtle frown gracing his features.
"Granted," Sage stated, and his expression quickly returned to its usual stern composure.
"As of now, return," he said in a domineering tone, turning his back toward Morph.
Sage's silhouette disappeared into thin air.
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Lying beneath the tree, Morph slowly opened his eyes to the brilliant afternoon sun.
Even filtered through the leaves, the sunlight made it a struggle to fully open his eyes.
Gradually, his vision adjusted as he slowly rose to his knees eventually standing.
Just ahead lay the steep slope of the mountain, walking towards it slowly.
He paused at its edge, gazing as far as possible, absorbing the intricate details of the surroundings and the depths of the mountain he had contemplated jumping into just a while ago.
With a newfound determination, Morph turned back, his steps slowly moving away from an abyssal disaster, towards what seemed to be 'home'.
[ ....Not today.]
__ End of The Chapter __