I met a quiet man a few years ago. He kept to himself much like I do. He spoke when he had to and nothing more. At first he would walk by me, not a glance or acknowledgment as we passed. My greetings went unanswered. His aura said he was content. A golden gleam. A color I see a lot around happy energetic and content people. He wore sunglasses everywhere, again just like I do. For a retiree he was active and healthy for his age. He kept a strict walking regimen, every day 1 hour non-stop. He carried himself with confidence.
One day “F” answered my greeting. “Wa-sup Mike” he said. I remember it. A victory won for me. I found out he had served in Vietnam. I didn’t ask questions, but accepted it.
I remember a bad thunderstorm came through one afternoon. “F” was out of his unit. He lived on the upper floors. He was panicked. His face, hidden behind the sunglasses, gave off sheer terror. He moved around too much, restless. His golden aura was empty and hollow, nothing was there. The lightning and clapping thunder intensified. There was no sign of him. The wind pushed the rain hard against the windows and water came in from under the doors. I found out later he was terrified by the sound of thunder and lightening. The storm gave up for that day. “F” appeared at the elevator. Smiling and refreshed. The look of relief and his gold colors returned around him.
For the last few weeks he came out less and less. The random time we passed he was quiet. No acknowledgment. He seemed tired, His aura turning a charcoal and yellow. He walked one day then disappeared. This morning I kept hearing in my twilight, between asleep and awake, “If I don’t see you again, it’s cool”. It sounded like it was spoken. The words stayed in my mind most of the morning. Arriving at work I found the lock box had been opened. My first thought was someone was locked out and the building’s after hours attendant got them a key. I asked, when I saw her, what happened last night. She didn’t know and reminded me she would call if she ever went into the lock box.
They took “F” away in the emergency squad last night. The neighbor told me they spent a long time inside his unit. Sometimes I wonder how close I really am to people without realizing it.