Restlessness

Sometime in the far future I would stand next to my best friend and he would ask me what I saw that day in the waveless water and cool breeze of A late summer morning. he would ask all the write questions, and he would want to know more and more about the events of that morning. Of course he wanted to know, and his interest seemed to demand an answer that did not exists. He happened to be the brother of that child I found floating midway between the deep end and the surface of that aged grand pool, which had become the village symbol of A hard and tenacious spirit still burning from the ashes of germany. I had nothing to say,other then that he was floating like an angel and his hair waved as though he was still alive. But somewhere in-between the questions and my silent response, there was also the deep sadness of an event that has no answer and almost like the end of a mystery; I was not satisfied with that end, though at times drawn into the enigma of that event and still trying to find solace among those who wandered more then I, and wanted to know more then ever what A body submerged in water looks like after A long and silent night. But that was too late. I got tired with what I could not answer and prepared myself for A new journey to come. I was A young man and death again peeked itself before me,reminding me that even my bubble can burst at any moment.