It had been a sleepless night. The thought of the next day kept him anxious and preoccupied. His feeble attempts to get some rest vanished as the room he had called home for the past two years grew brighter. The relentless sun had broken through the darkness, and now the world was awakening to its almighty presence. On the table beside him, his phone rang, urging him to wake up. He had already surrendered to consciousness hours before the electronic call.
He stood up in the nearly empty room. On one side, packed bags reminded him of what lay ahead. Without a sound, he moved into the bathroom to perform the "ceremonies of the civilized world." The person staring back at him in the mirror had a toothbrush in his mouth, tired eyes, and unkempt hair. As he gazed at his reflection, thoughts of home flooded his mind. He remembered how his mother used to force him awake every morning, putting a toothbrush in his hand. He could still picture her wide-eyed and fuming, but he also recalled the beautiful color of her hair and her gentle, caring eyes. He wondered how she looked now.
The sun had started its climb across the sky. The horses pulling its chariot never seemed to fall victim to tardiness. He, however, had been late for everything recently. Late for the classes where conformity was taught, late for the communal meetings where his kin drowned themselves in alcohol, and late for the milestones of life. His peers thought he had lost interest in things, while his family remained unaware of his slow pace. The world around him had forgotten that he was still moving through it. In the grand image of life, he was just another dot in the frame.
Dragging his bags behind him, he moved forward. The car that would begin his journey stood idling by the road. His long-time friend sat inside, wearing shades and flashing a smile. This friend, who had witnessed the good times, would chauffeur him today. They exchanged greetings, reestablishing their connection. He had always made friends easily, his smiling face a welcoming sight. He had met this driving companion only days after arriving, over shared vices. Now, this figure beside him was reduced to unintelligible noise as he became lost in thought. He didn't fully grasp that in just a few hours, their paths would diverge. The sun was nearing its zenith, its warmth fleeting like the time they shared. While the sun was guaranteed to return the next day, there was no such certainty for the bond between these two travelers.
Saying farewell had never been his strength. His eyes always teared up at moments of separation. His father, a disciplined man, despised such displays of emotion. "Toughen up!" he'd say during hard times. Yet now, as thoughts of his father filled his mind, he began to feel a new sense of respect. Behind the stern, militaristic exterior, he saw a concerned and caring figure. On the concrete plains where millions of goodbyes had been said before, he stood with his bags. He had parted from his friend earlier with some words and emotions. Now, like the sun descending from its midday position, he moved forward.
In a line among hundreds of unfamiliar faces, he began to think of the many people he'd left behind. Just as those ahead and behind him were different, so too were the faces of those he knew. And in their differences lay the very thing that made them all the same. He wondered about the hundreds of new people he would meet and the few whose names he would forget. He was moving again toward a place he once called home. Memories of old friends filled his mind, while those of the ones he left behind today began to fade. Like the sun moving alone across the sky, he shone brightly in hopes of being noticed—because how could anyone survive without the warmth of friendship?
The sleepless night reminded him of what he had missed. He felt exhausted as he sat in transit. Gazing out the small window, he watched clouds race past. Time had always felt rushed, never waiting for him to finish his tasks. He had hurried through relationships, rushed his work, skimmed through emotions when things were different, and, worst of all, made snap decisions when a few more minutes were needed. But today was different. He wouldn't succumb to his tired eyes or let the growing warmth within him fade.
Sometimes, a single day in a person’s life is enough to bring clarity about the things that matter most. The journey that began with the rising sun had rekindled his warmth for family and friends. He couldn't wait to see his family again. The thought filled him with happiness, though it was tinged with sadness for what he left behind. He was beginning to feel again. The prospect of the sun rising tomorrow comforted his troubled heart, and he hoped for better days ahead. The sun had grown tired of its place in the sky, and darkness was now falling over the world.
In a large room, a newly bought 42-inch curved LED television blazed with light and sound. A boy lay in front of it, eyes glued to the screen. His older sister sat on the couch next to him, staring at a smaller screen in her hands. Their parents had called earlier, saying they'd be working late again. The usual display of conflict was playing on the screen in front of the boy. His gaze wavered as a message scrolled across the bottom of the screen: a plane had crashed today, killing all the passengers aboard. The boy suddenly perked up, alert to the new image on the screen. He turned to his sister and shouted, "I'm asking Mommy to buy me that new smartphone!"
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