Observing the lighthouse

The other day I caught you in one of those idiosyncratic habits you so often perform. You were looking ahead quite blankly; but all of a sudden, as if life had wandered back into you, you propped yourself up and began looking around. It was as if you were searching for something, or someone. And finally, as I imagined you had found what you were searching for, you stopped. You craned your head slightly forward to ascertain the glimpse, that the fraction was indeed part of the sought whole. Then a mild, almost indiscernible, relief came over your features. You leaned back and eased into your earlier posture. I wonder if it is always the same object that you search for; that lives in your fantasy, so that when you travel to those colorful, picturesque lands, you will always wish to be reminded that all of it isn’t merely fiction.

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