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The Contrast of Martin [Writing Prompt Response]

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“They say life is immortal but that the human destiny is limited. That the biggest of rain drops is still in the end disconnected from the rest of the mass of water it falls with, the torrential flood.

I use to believe this would-be truth when I was still human. Then one day it all changed. Once I unlocked my powers I realized the unlimitedness of the human potential. I no longer confused or compared the rain drop with the torrential flood because I could see the Source. I could see the heavy cloud that had decided to shed its weight. I could see the beginning of the end.

As I was walking through the street pondering my new found power, the inclusion of my-self in a new found world. I met a most curious human. The only reason I spotted them was because they stood out to me in their uniqueness. When I normally now experience the world everything is all blended together because all current humans are alike: asleep, undifferentiated.

That is, they all have the same future. It makes them unremarkable to me and I can't tell one from the other. However this human was different. They popped out to me sharp with edges in a sea lacking in contrast. THEY WERE THE CONTRAST.

I approached them and queried their name. They eagerly gave it: "Martin." He said he was visiting from Germany. He was in a land not his own yet he spoke the tongue well enough. His openness to engage me, a stranger, was also peculiar.

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Before I could ask them another question. They asked me one.

"Do you know where the bar is?..."

"The what?"

I had been so caught in the experience of this human I forgot about the banalities of every day life.

"You know...the bar. Drink. Drink."

Martin made a swinging upward motion with his hand, as if he could already taste and imbibe the beverage he so sought after -- a reminder of home, a momentary comfort that never rendered itself totally to any man, woman, or other animal.

Before I could speak yet again. He left out a boisterous whole-hearted laugh. He started pointing at me with increased exhilaration as the vocal sounds emanating from his throat.

"AhhhhhAHHHHHHHHH," his pointing at me increased in intensity and nearness to my person. "You drink too?!!! Vermouth?!" He said in a thick accent.

I said nothing in shock. I could see everyone's future but his. I could engage a random passerby on the street and be ignored but not with him.

Now I was the one being queried for my taste in aperitifs.

I relented. I knew the riddle of Martin would not reveal itself to me, of why his future was constantly changing while so many others lived mundane lives. As for his death, which was in the distant future: He would withdraw from this physical reality as an old man, still filled with that youthful happiness he already currently exudes, surrounded by children and his grandchildren -- and yes, aperitifs too.

I told him, "My friend. I know the best bar. And yes I drink aperitifs too." Not having the heart to tell him that this was a German thing. And that in these parts, around this time of year. Everyone only drank from the heart of the agave."

END

-F.P.

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Image source:

Alcohol drinks

kaicho20 - at Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/photos/alcohol-whiskey-drink-party-people-492871/

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