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Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details. Hello! Who are you? by J. G. Fabiano I reached out looking for a towel like I do every morning after my shower because I can't see to find it through the steam that fills the room. I know exactly where it is because I have been in the same routine ever since we bought our second home in York about five years ago. After I use the towel to dry the water off my face I walk over to the sink, and wipe off the bathroom mirror with the same towel I have just used to wipe off my brow. I look into the small hole that I have made in the steamed mirror and think to myself, "Hello, who are you?" This couldn't be me! It must be someone else looking back at me through his mirror on the other side of the wall. That person has thinning hair in which his hairline is well above the middle of his head. In fact, the hair on his head has evolved into filling up his ears and even some of his nose! The person on the other side of the wall has sleepy, puffy eyes that look as though they have the weight of the world on them. This gives the appearance of large, dark rings that grow underneath each of his eyes. The person looking back at me has the corner of his eyes pointing down making his eyes look perpetually sad. The man's face on the other side of the wall looks a bit depressed and worn out. The nose of the person on the other side of the wall has grown larger with his years. The skin on his nose is no longer smooth. It has funny little bumps on it with tiny purplish veins swimming throughout its surface. That person on the other side of the wall has hair that was primarily gray. The hair on that person's face must have lost its color many years ago because there is little color left to be seen. That person's face on the other side of the wall must have also grown larger with the years. A little bit of the bone structure can still be seen but the extra skin that had been produced through the years has overrun it. What had once been a single chin had now become two, maybe even three. The neck of that person on the other side of the wall has also lost a lot of its tone. Where the skin must once have hugged his neck, it now seems to have given up to the perpetual force of gravity and now sags well below his chin. Backing up a bit from my mirror I notice that the 'man on the other side of the wall' has also grown larger in size. His body seems to have been filled with some sort of a liquid that only comes with time. The color of his chest hair has also matches the color of the little bit of hair left on his head. This makes his whole body look like what a clouded sky in the middle of March looks like over the ocean, after a late winter storm. That kind of gray is only allowed to appear with time. Now that I clearly see what this man looks like on the other side of the wall I begin to wonder what his passions are. I also wonder if he has any left? I wonder if he still wants to change the world. I wonder if he still thinks he has the energy to make a difference in a society he knows was abused before his time. I wonder if he still cares? I wonder if he still dreams about what he wants to be? I wonder if he still starts every day in hopes that he will be challenged, and if he is energized by the reality that every problem is simply an opportunity. Or did he give up because he let time make him give up? I wonder if the 'man on the other side of the wall' still cares about other people. Not just his immediate neighbors and friends but people who are less fortunate than himself. People who are not given the same chance as he was always given, because they are of a different color, religion, or even social order. I wonder if he still gets angry when he hears stories about them being abused because they were thought to be not very important. Now that I understand that this 'man on the other side of the wall' is obviously older, I wonder if he thinks about the importance of God more than he did when he was young. Now that this man on the other side of the wall is closer to his end I wonder if he cares more about what will be when he finally meets his end? In fact, I wonder if the man on the other side of the world still takes the time to think of such things? I wonder what this 'man on the other side of the wall' wears? I wonder if he still wears jeans every day and doesn't worry about color co-ordination or what the other guy or girl thinks of him? I wonder if he still likes to wear deep-colored, pull-over, collar-less shirts that button down only half-way down his front. I wonder if he still refuses to use deodorant or cologne because of his insistence that a man is supposed to smell like a man. I realize that I have spent too much time with the 'man on the other side of the wall' because my wife is now telling me that it is her turn to use the bathroom! It is also time to do the same things that I have done for most of my life. At least the times of my life that I still remember but, before I leave I give one more glance to the 'man on the other side of the wall'. I say 'Good bye' to him and feel a deep compassion because he looks so tired and old. As I say 'Good bye', I wonder if tomorrow I will have the courage to visit again with the 'man on the other side of the wall'. The End
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