Luck

Posted on Posted in Shortstories

And there was it again; another deep breath and the boy promised himself that the next one will be the last one. With this thought Logan lowered his glance down to the huge mass of water, foaming and waving wildly around, just waiting for his jump. Waiting to drag him deep inside of it. Eating every single bit of life, flowing through his body. Was he ready? Was he prepared for this? He didn’t knew. He couldn’t imagine how someone must feel who is dying. All he knows was that he didn’t wanted to feel anything anymore. If someone would asked him why he wanted to jump, he wouldn’t have an answer. He had a good childhood. He was healthy. His family was healthy. He was doing good. Although he lost his wife, his job, his friends and with it, everything lost its meaning. What was life worth living, without meaning? It was like your favorite food lost from one day to another its flavor. Something through and through not understandable. Something through and through bizarre, but still there. He raises his blue eyes to the sky. The sky was dull. A lot of clouds were around, but still no rain. Why was there no rain? It was so dark.  He looked into the distance. his heart pounding loudly in his ears. His blood, running wildly through his veins. Every single muscle was absolutely stiff. Absolutely under contraction. Although he felt absolutely weak. Too weak to set the last step. The last step into the pure darkness. Why was he too weak? What was he waiting for? He had nothing to lose. ›Do it. just one step and it’s over.‹  With this motivation he raised his foot, when suddenly —

»Hm. Very deep.«

Logan winces,  trying to get back in balance, holding on to the rod next to him, preventing the fall of the parapet.

He moves his head to the right, spotting an old man next to him. Leaning on the parapet, looking out to the sea and smoking his cigarette. His clothes seemed so wet, although there was no rain. What had he been doing? Did he run a lot and sweated? Did he took a swim? No! The flux was too strong for doing that. How does he get here? There was no other car around, and why was he watching you? Did he wanted to see you jump? And if not; why didn’t he stopped you right away?

Logan looked to the guy.

»Who are you?«, Logan asked, almost whispering.

The old man shifted his eyes at Logan.

»Very deep. I was thinking of the story of one of my friends. It was a very deep one.«

Logan took a deep breath. He didn’t know how to answer on that. He couldn’t catch or control any thought, running through his head.

»There were so many things that I did wrong. So many things«, the old man explains further.

Logan opened the mouth to say something, when suddenly —

»May I tell you a little story?«, the stranger asked and Logan gazed at him suspisciously. But before the boy could answer, the foreigner begins to tell: »There was once a boy. Unhappy with his life, wandering pointless through the world. From town to town, searching for the place he meant to be. After years of travelling, he arrived at a stonen well. So beautiful like nothing he ever saw before.

The boy knew the ritus of throwing a coin in exchange to a dream, so he pulled out his last coin, closed his eyes and whispered some words. So quietly that no one ever would hear them. One breath take later he threw the coin and openend his eyes again, looking around for something. Recoginzing that nothing had changed, he lowered his head into dissapointement. Suddenly an old man starts to laugh. The boy turned surprised at him.

›Who are you‹, he asked fearfully.

›It’s always the same. I saw people coming. Hundreds, thousands of them, Throwing in a coin and wondering why all had stayed the same, forgetting one rule.‹

›Which is?‹, the boy asked, alsomst whispering.

›Certainty. The valued task of this well is to help you realize what you’re really striving for. It isn’t a tool of magic. Life is confussing. It is like a puzzle, offering thousands of different views at a picture, but at the end it is our job to complete our very own puzzle. A thing that we are only able to if we know the picture.‹

›What is the picture?‹

›That’s what the well is for. It helps you find it. Keep your wish in mind, always and you’ll find the pieces. Go for the detours, find your pieces and who knows, maybe you are just a coindrop away from the next piece‹, the old man ended his story and indicated the left with his head. The boy followed his look and saw the most beautiful woman he ever saw in his entire life. Their eyes met and the boy knew that he had found the most precious piece of his puzzle. And from this day on, the boy was never alone again.«

Logan looked at the stranger with some sort of admiration.

»Life is not about achieving or striving. It’s about maintaining and valueing what you’ve already got. Maintaining your belief. Maintaining your family. Maintaining your skills. You know the picture right from the beginning, although you forget it from time to time. You’ll find all pieces as long as you maintain the picture.«

»How do you know?«

»Well, your clothes are still dry, right?

Suddenly Logan grinned and moved down from the parapet smiling at his savior. It was this moment when a car drove by offering him a ride. Logan turned to his friend to ask him to join, but the forgein man was already away like blown away by the wind.

The boy shoot a last puzzled look, then he entered the car, lead by a beautiful young lady.

The car drove away and the boy moved his look shocked at a picture hanging around the inner window.

The girl noticed his look and explained: »That’s my dad. A fine man. He died some years ago in a car accident on this bridge. You would have liked him.«

On the picture was his savior, smiling with her on his side.

The boy looked at the girl astounded and thought: ›Puzzle.‹

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