Quid pro quo
A snapshot from the past.
an exceptionally beautiful summer morning,
the kind that rarely occurs here.
A brief encounter between two recent friends; a polite exchange of pleasantries
A stranger halts in front of us, eyeing us closely.
Judging or measuring- is he lost?
He opens his mouth to speak.
- The two of you have taken something from each other, he says.
You must give it back.
Before it started it is over, leaving us standing there, clueless.
In a more tropical country we would have ridden it off as a heat-induced hallucination.
I like to imagine that the mere sight of us told this stranger something about us.
Something that we remain ignorant of.
What did I take from him?
How can I regain something that I do not know that I have lost?
A cliché says 'the meaning of life is to find the question to which you are the answer.'
Most of the time we are just fumbling in the dark.
Not knowing what we are searching for, and much less where to look for it.
So, it is comforting to sometimes imagine myself leaning back against the strong shoulder of destiny.
Trusting serendipity instead of zemblanity, even though I know better.
To believe that the universe has a plan for me,
that I have to find a way to give back to him what I took.
Because that is all I can do.
Or can I?
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