The Little Man


Let’s see…where do I start? First off…this young man isn’t exactly my favourite character in the world – in fact, he’s not even a work of art. But looking through my family albums, he would be hard to miss…that pudgy little gnome waddling across the floor, staring at the world through those pure white eyes.

I would sit and watch, as this familiar fellow skirts through life, carefree as can be, through my window across time. I’d see him sat on the bed, an empty plate before him, that smile of satisfaction strewn across his chubby face. “Stop eating those goddamn sandwiches!” I’d say, “They won’t exactly take kindly upon your waistline.”

I would watch him shy away from an array of open doors, begging and begging, “Don’t waste your time! When you’re older, you’ll wish you had more in your pockets.” Perhaps, once in a while, he would do something useful…something worthwhile, something he would look back to in a few years’ time and say ‘Damn…those were the days’.

I would cringe as he shouted and wailed, bellowed and screamed in blind anger at those around him, a true menace in the flesh and mind. “No! Wait!” I would call, “Trust me, that is something you don’t want to do.” But would he ever listen? After all – he was one to take nobody’s word but his own. Perhaps, he still is.

But despite his flaws, I could see the best of him – there is always that bright light, in anybody, even when your judgement wraps around it in fog. And yes, there are some things I would change in this little man’s life if it were to all start again. Yet the journey I took to get here – is one that I would never change.


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