The Traveller
The Traveller traveller stories

football_girl Im not super active rn but I still care💛
Autoplay OFF   •   9 months ago
He arrived very abruptly. No introductions, no 'hello' or 'hey there'. One minute the park bench was empty, the next there he was.
PS: Yes, that is Steve Rogers.

The Traveller

He arrived very abruptly. No introductions, no 'hello' or 'hey there'. One minute the park bench was empty, the next there he was. Sitting quietly, with old eyes scanning the playground.

On his back, he carried battered scraps of clothing.

On his feet, he wore nothing but the dirt and dust of the lost roads on which he travelled.

His eyes where old, like the creases on his face, and seemed to enclose a lifetime of love within them. His smile was gentle and soft.

The man did not seem to be smiling at anything in particular: he just smiled. Grey hairs adorned his head - they were a crown, showing off his wisdom that comes with old age.

Gingerly, he clasped his trembling hands upon his lap. Like prunes, were his fingers, and his palms were wide and flat, as though he hand spent much of his life working on his knees. A ring adorned his finger, though there was no partner beside him.

The man was a traveller - he walked and wandered, with no destination. Never did he stick around for long. Nowhere did he settle, apart from when walking past headlights in the dead of night.

When the road called, the traveller answered.

For awhile, he sat, listening to the songs of birds and a laughter of children. I decided to approach him. Without saying anything, I sat down next to him. I did not know what to say.

What were the words of a child to a man of such...peace? Sun beat down on our necks. I decided to try the age old question.

"Is your glass half full or half empty?"

The man paused for a second. A fool might say he was a little thrown by the question, although I knew better, for no man of such age is ever surprised by much.

He turned to me for the first time, and gave me a warm smile. I couldn't help but smile back.

"I suppose...I am just grateful to have a glass." His voice was soft, like the age old lyrics of a forgotten tune. The smile adorning my cheeks grew. I nodded, and let the words sink in.

"That's very true." I replied. I turned back to face him - but he was gone.

For he was a traveller, and the road called him once more.

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