day five of my creative writing journey. the prompt was “END YOUR STORY WITH THIS LINE: WHO IS WISE?”
Who is wise? He used to ask this question every year on the first day of our school, after summer holidays.
I used to answer him with words like Tolstoy, Shakespeare, or Aristotle. These conversations used to end right there.
He was a normie, not very smart or dumb. We were what teachers usually call average students.
Lately, he has gone silent. He doesn’t ask that stupid question anymore. For that matter, he doesn’t ask anything now.
He smiles. I see his eyes. Yet I don’t see the light that shines through eyes with a smile. There is nothing in there.
They look like dry water wells, filled with utter darkness.
I tried to take his soul out of the depths of darkness. I descended deeper and deeper. Yet, I couldn’t find the person, he was.
He is like a shell, a hollow shape, a world without anything in it.
Sometimes I ask myself why he used to ask and when he stopped asking the question, ‘Who is wise?’
PS – This is the fifth day of my journey to write everyday for next one year.
the deleted story 