About this boy.

Once upon a time there lived a boy in a city. A big city it was. Very big. To big for anyone to pay attention o this little child. He wasn’t really all that little though. He was, as he put it, large. A little large boy living in a really big city. The boy would wake up the same way every time. Disturbing sleep he had. But it didn’t bother him. He was accustomed to it. Every night at 2 AM he’d wake up. A nightmare would drive his sleep away. But nightmare or no nightmare he’d wake up with a smile… A big smile that said “Hello! I’m here! I’m Back! And I Am Alive!” to all that would see it. But obviously no one would ever see it. He didn’t care. He’d pet his plants and wash his face. He made the best of what he had.

“Now where did I put those books? He’d ask himself. “There you are! Now! Prepare to be read like you’ve never been read before oh not-so organic man-made compound!” He’d laugh at his own joke. Making sure not to do so too loud. No, he wasn’t all that funny. But he made good company for himself.

He’d read words of men and women and Gods till the sun rose and it was time for him to get up. He’d get into bed and put on that old sleeping act.

“Wake up or miss breakfast big-guy” A familiar voice would say.

“I’d rather miss breakfast!” His act was perfect.

“Ok then. Your choice.” The voice would leave silently.

He’d get up and do what we all do every morning. It was time to get started with the day. Mumbling and humming he’d go about his daily chores till he managed to reach the part of the day where he was left all alone.

“Thinkin time” He called it. He’d walk the streets of the city as he thought. Looking at what was around him. The buildings, the sky, the people and everything else he could possibly see. He would marvel at how well nature had made things.

He’d say “I’m just a year old in my head. Everything is just so new to me. I like seeing all the colours and shapes and thoughts around me. Observing them, analyzing them. It gives me peace.”

He led a fairly simple life. Minimalistic he’d call himself. But his thoughts never seemed that way. He always wanted to become big and powerful. He’d say that it was the best way to help. He liked helping. Especially when it cam to helping his friends. Yes. He had friends. He loved his friends. He always did.

Well anyway. At the end of it all, it would be time to go back to sleep. Time to rest, time to dream. And as he’d get back up at night with a nightmare running through his mind he’d smile a smile that said “Hello! I’m here! I’m Back! And I Am Alive!”.