A boy he is – young, wild and free.
For him, to imagine is to dream. To recount is to live it by. Vivid are his words. Vibrant and so full of life. Thoughts flow freely and openly. Like a blossom slowly starting to bloom. Petal by petal, it starts to unfold to the world outside. It captivated every observer, every passersby. It now becomes like a picture – that of Dorian Gray. The fire of youth seems to breathe in and out of him. Admired by many, praised by most.
And yet, to the painter Basil, who made the portrait with all of his heart came a price too high to be paid – it costs Dorian’s soul. How can the boy be ever protected from the harsh and cruel realities of life? With all the experiences that he would go through, would there still be any good left in him?
Basil tried to protect him. Veer him away from all those worldly pleasures, make him see the world in a different perspective. And yet he, Basil, found himself caught in the whirlpool of words, thoughts, ideas, philosophies that are rich but are not from his realm.
The artist is helpless. There’s no way that he can be saved – that man in the portrait. It pained to see the masterpiece becoming a remnant of the past that would soon fade. Like a memory, dug deep until totally forgotten.
All that was left are his words, his thoughts, that once captivate but now begin to haunt. Sweet words they were. Now, they are all jumbled, like a puzzle, wherein one decent word cannot be formed.
Indeed, the boy is a writer. His life is a wordplay. A tangle of woven dreams, broken hopes and yes, just words.
Nothing else but all sort of words.
***It’s been a while since I have created something “fictitious.” So here’s a short fiction to practice my imaginative writing skills. If ever I have one. 😉