He who I never met. He who I crossed paths by many times, shared a glance of the unknown, whirlpools of emotions, lathered and jumbled but all said and, as if done, simplified into a "Hello".

One word. One tone. One initiation. One man.

It all began with him and today, does it all end with him as well?

Does it all of the comfort of acknowledging our circumstances dissolve into uncertainty and time upon a mysterious disappearance of a sing-song Hello.

He-lll-oooo.

His voice rings in my ears. The only monotone I knew him in. It wasn't ever more than that or beyond it, but it even was never less than that.

We didn't know each other's name, didn't question each other's presence or fumbling footsteps or wafts of smoke.

It was simple.

A simple acknowledgment of Hello that dissolved any unsettlement- a greeting.

A puff of his cigarette clouds fogged my essence of confusion. It was simple, then. A welcome that pleasantly said to us, "come to the well".

He-lll-ooo.

He must have heard me complain, heard my voice in every emotion over that path. Saw these child-like eyes fade away and out, but I heard nothing of him. Never heard beyond his greeting. A greeting that acknowledged where we were, who we were, how we were and, this was another "hello".

There is no beginning to this story. There is no hello here, but a simple greeting and walk past houses. There is no climax to this story. Just a hello that first pricked like an engagement from a stranger to a hello that budded and then bloomed into shades of deeper meaning. A hello that held value and concern. A hello that felt safer than familiar hold-ons and high tones. There is no end to this story. Those treaded footsteps will remain though now covered under dust. That hello will ring in the wind though muted behind season's speech. His house will remain though shallow, dull and empty of an empty soul who would be brave enough to welcome what, who and how things came by.

There may be an epilogue to this- one to say hello to. There may be a hello here to vanishing welcomes of whirlpools of emotions, jumbled footsteps, and fumbling thoughts. Uncertainties that fog in unfogged cigarette clouds. There will be a hello to the no one who would light a fire and then blow it all away.

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Feb 22, 2022