a sage sat under a tree.
a few feet away, a flower grew.
in the distance, thunder rolled.
it began to grow dark.
the thunder passed, and a butterfly flew quickly by.
the sage produced a corncob pipe from the folds of his baggy coat.
the sun set over the hills.
a profound silence enveloped the sage as he lit his pipe.
an automobile’s headlight’s appeared.
the automobile was driven by a man named buck.
in his youth, he had been the class clown.
but his youth was a thing of the past.
where had all the good times gone?
but buck was not one for reminiscence.
he kept his thoughts, such as they were, to himself.
and took things as he found them.
now he saw, in his headlights, the sage sitting by the side of the road, smoking his pipe.
buck forgot his purpose in life and decided to stop and engage the sage in conversation.
he quickly discovered that the sage had no name.
you have no name, buck said to the sage, and i have no purpose in life.
i have no knowledge, the sage declared.
life is funny that way, buck replied.
perhaps, in another life, we will both be given another chance, buck continued.
on the other hand...., the sage mused.
the car drove away into the darkness.
time passed.
the flower continued to grow.
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