His light footsteps echo through the night. Each step is another sound, another tone, another tune you can dance to. Nobody can ignore him, he has that strange aura about him. He is frightened, every two seconds he turns around and tries to see his invisible hunters. But he sees no one. Because there's nothing there. Maybe it's his imagination, maybe nothing is there after all. But he can't help but be distracted, he has that weird feeling that he 's being followed. Little does he know that he is completely wrong. He cannot accept the fact that nobody is there, nobody cares to follow him, even watch him. Everyone is indifferent. They go about their businesses, never turning their head around. He doesn't know they don't care. He wants them to care. He needs someone to see him. Not just someone. A certain someone.
He is a little boy, a silent strider. A lonely walker. Why does he walk all by himself in this time of night, someone might ask. Well, that's for you to find out, my dearest friends. But don't tell him, he will deny everything. He will insist on walking the same path over and over again, never finding out where he could get to if he changed his route. He doesn't care. He is blind. He is devoted. Blind devotion, that's what he represents now. For how long will he remain on that same path is anyone's guess. Never mind that. The important thing is that it's his choice. He chose to remain stable, to walk always in a straight line, never changing his course. Is he out of his mind? Can anyone survive living the same life each and every day? No, but that's not how it is. If you ask him, he 's going to deny it. That being the case no one can even begin to understand why he chooses that path. Please respect his decisions. Please accept the facts, however wrong they might seem.
He 's back at the safety of his house now. He will lay on his bed for about an hour and then he is going to sleep, only to regain his strength, so he can be ready for the next day 's walk. May he find peace.
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