Reminder

‘What are you doing here?’ asks the old woman, who has been getting called Sumati a lot recently.
Prochorus doesn’t answer.
‘Aren’t you the same person who was going to leave all this stuff behind? What happened?’
‘Someone told me this way worked too. He was pretty convincing.’
‘What happened to your book?’
Prochorus goes to his study. He takes his book of clues and hints from the bookshelf. He looks through it. He is reminded of things. Working for things that don’t get old. Making the most of every resource. Taking risks.
Prochorus collapses on the floor and cries.
‘It’s not too late,’ says the old lady, putting her hand on his shoulder. ‘You can leave this sanctuary you made yourself. You can start heading toward the door again. They’re still waiting for you.’


writing, novel