Conversation On A Windless Afternoon

There is this friend of mine. I have known him for more than 20 years. To say that I adore him is an understatement.

He told me the other day, shit happens. Even to good people.

I watched him carefully when he said that.

He looked back at me and smiled. There was the tiniest hint of sadness and resignation in his eyes. But the smile was genuine. It was not sardonic. There was no malice. Despite whatever private hells he’s been through, beneath his gentle nature, lies the kind of unseen bravery that I hope I, too, have in me.

Before I left I told him, you’ll be ok you know.

I know, he said.

I wished I didn’t have to leave.

This, is for him.

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