English Stone Age!
"What are you doing," the little boy asked the old man sitting on one of the park benches. Astonished, the old man looked at the little boy. He thoughtfully turned a stone he was holding around and around.
"I'm looking back in time," he then said.
"How does that work," the boy asked, "are you a time explorer?" The man smiled. "Hmm, maybe I'm something like that. Who knows exactly what he is. Doesn't sound bad, though: time researcher! Time researchers."
"What does that mean?" The little boy looked inquiringly into the old man's face. "Time researchers, too. Don't you go to school yet?"
"No", said the boy, "not until next year. Grandma says I should rest a little longer, everything else will come soon enough."
"What about your parents? What do they say?"
"Don't have any more. Are up there!"
He points up to the feathery clouds painting a pattern on the cerulean blue of the sky. "Oh!" The old man fell silent, concerned. The boy looked at him, "Well, I didn't know her. And I have my grandma, after all!"
"Yes, that's just as well. Everyone needs someone they can trust when they feel alone. It's bad when there's no one there. I know that."
"Are you alone too?" the boy asked.
"Yes, sometimes, but I have my time to talk to!"
Without understanding, the boy looked at him. The old man smiled again. Then pointed to the stone in his hand.
"See this one? It can tell me so much. It was born when there were no people living in this world."
The little boy laughed heartily. "But stones aren't born, what nonsense are you telling me."
The old man also laughed quietly to himself, but then, handing the stone to the child, said:
"Like this, you mean? --- Stones are born, too. Not like people and animals, of course. Stones are born from fire and embers and magma that live deep beneath our feet inside the earth. Then, every now and then, when these embers come to the surface, they become solid, and later, that's a stone. Like this one!"
The boy turned the stone back and forth, looking at its grain. "I think it's pretty. And so smooth, it feels good."
"Would you like to have it? I was given it many years ago by an old woman who lived up in the mountains. I'll give it to you, too!"
"But, - but this is your stone, with which you can look into time. Didn't you say?"
The old man nodded at the boy, then smiled mischievously.
"Oh, you know, I've known time for many, many years now, and it knows me, too. And I already know it all by heart now. But you, you still have to learn it, that time."
The little boy looked at him in confusion.
"How can you learn time? You can't."
The old man stroked the boy's hair, then asked again, "Will you accept my gift?" Wordlessly, the little boy just nodded several times.
"That's fine," the man said. "So you think time can't be learned? Oh yes, you can. I've learned to have time, too. You know, it's often the case - you'll learn this - that you don't have time. Or it just runs away from you!" The little boy nodded his head in affirmation, "That's what Grandma says sometimes, too: time just ran away from me!"
"Yes, that's how it is then."
The old man continued speaking. "You can sleep through time. You can kill it!"
The boy laughed out loud. "Grandma always says time is precious!"
"Which she's right about," the old man said. "It really is precious. You shouldn't just drive it away, either. You know, some people say they have to pass the time!"
The little boy nodded. "I've heard that, too. That's called passing the time then!" The old man nodded. "Yeah, that's right, you pass the time. And then it does just that, it lets itself be driven away, and suddenly it's gone! Gone simply because you've driven it away. Isn't that bad?"
Questioningly, the boy looked at the old man.
"I think it is bad. And then? Do you get them back?"
"No, never." The old man said with a startling determination. "No, you don't get back lost time. It's gone. And then you have no more time, no more time to do all the things you used to want to do, but you had no time then either! And later, when one would have time, like I have now, there is none left! Because it is used up, the time. That's why you absolutely have to learn time, my boy, because it is precious, as your grandma says. Take time whenever you need it, don't let it rush you. Always remember the stone in your hand!"
The old man rose from the park bench, took his walking stick, stroked the boy's hair once more, and then walked slowly along the path. The little boy looked after him for a long time, then whispered softly, "Bye, take your time grandpa!"
"I'm looking back in time," he then said.
"How does that work," the boy asked, "are you a time explorer?" The man smiled. "Hmm, maybe I'm something like that. Who knows exactly what he is. Doesn't sound bad, though: time researcher! Time researchers."
"What does that mean?" The little boy looked inquiringly into the old man's face. "Time researchers, too. Don't you go to school yet?"
"No", said the boy, "not until next year. Grandma says I should rest a little longer, everything else will come soon enough."
"What about your parents? What do they say?"
"Don't have any more. Are up there!"
He points up to the feathery clouds painting a pattern on the cerulean blue of the sky. "Oh!" The old man fell silent, concerned. The boy looked at him, "Well, I didn't know her. And I have my grandma, after all!"
"Yes, that's just as well. Everyone needs someone they can trust when they feel alone. It's bad when there's no one there. I know that."
"Are you alone too?" the boy asked.
"Yes, sometimes, but I have my time to talk to!"
Without understanding, the boy looked at him. The old man smiled again. Then pointed to the stone in his hand.
"See this one? It can tell me so much. It was born when there were no people living in this world."
The little boy laughed heartily. "But stones aren't born, what nonsense are you telling me."
The old man also laughed quietly to himself, but then, handing the stone to the child, said:
"Like this, you mean? --- Stones are born, too. Not like people and animals, of course. Stones are born from fire and embers and magma that live deep beneath our feet inside the earth. Then, every now and then, when these embers come to the surface, they become solid, and later, that's a stone. Like this one!"
The boy turned the stone back and forth, looking at its grain. "I think it's pretty. And so smooth, it feels good."
"Would you like to have it? I was given it many years ago by an old woman who lived up in the mountains. I'll give it to you, too!"
"But, - but this is your stone, with which you can look into time. Didn't you say?"
The old man nodded at the boy, then smiled mischievously.
"Oh, you know, I've known time for many, many years now, and it knows me, too. And I already know it all by heart now. But you, you still have to learn it, that time."
The little boy looked at him in confusion.
"How can you learn time? You can't."
The old man stroked the boy's hair, then asked again, "Will you accept my gift?" Wordlessly, the little boy just nodded several times.
"That's fine," the man said. "So you think time can't be learned? Oh yes, you can. I've learned to have time, too. You know, it's often the case - you'll learn this - that you don't have time. Or it just runs away from you!" The little boy nodded his head in affirmation, "That's what Grandma says sometimes, too: time just ran away from me!"
"Yes, that's how it is then."
The old man continued speaking. "You can sleep through time. You can kill it!"
The boy laughed out loud. "Grandma always says time is precious!"
"Which she's right about," the old man said. "It really is precious. You shouldn't just drive it away, either. You know, some people say they have to pass the time!"
The little boy nodded. "I've heard that, too. That's called passing the time then!" The old man nodded. "Yeah, that's right, you pass the time. And then it does just that, it lets itself be driven away, and suddenly it's gone! Gone simply because you've driven it away. Isn't that bad?"
Questioningly, the boy looked at the old man.
"I think it is bad. And then? Do you get them back?"
"No, never." The old man said with a startling determination. "No, you don't get back lost time. It's gone. And then you have no more time, no more time to do all the things you used to want to do, but you had no time then either! And later, when one would have time, like I have now, there is none left! Because it is used up, the time. That's why you absolutely have to learn time, my boy, because it is precious, as your grandma says. Take time whenever you need it, don't let it rush you. Always remember the stone in your hand!"
The old man rose from the park bench, took his walking stick, stroked the boy's hair once more, and then walked slowly along the path. The little boy looked after him for a long time, then whispered softly, "Bye, take your time grandpa!"
And what's that supposed to mean? Just copying an any ol' story from the net? Everyone can do so. Awkward!
My dear friend - you are completely wrong! The history, which you indicate there, is from ME! I have written that myself, so refrain from such remarks!
I will never publish something that is not from myself. If you can read something like that, then check the authorship: It is always from me!
Horst Lux
I will never publish something that is not from myself. If you can read something like that, then check the authorship: It is always from me!
Horst Lux
That you simply assume here that it would be copied - that is embarrassing!
In your head turns probably allses only around such points of criticism?
I found such criticism already several times in your comments ...
In your head turns probably allses only around such points of criticism?
I found such criticism already several times in your comments ...
Thank you very much for this nice short story, Pan :-)
I like such short stories very much and will add it to my collection. And your authorname of course, too :)