FreeWriting- "Fond"

Once upon a time, when there was a place to call a whole, a young man, or rather boy, was just in luck to find his time. In this place that was once called a whole any and every being was a part of something much fonder than it could be itself. Every touch was something to tell the mind. Every peoples was able to teach to the other’s curiosities. Each soul was a kind of master. And this place that was once called a whole, belonged to a community who shared a dwelling owned by the life of a soul of a young man that was a boy, and this is where the whole begins and where the beginning ends.
So the boy was never a very fond boy. He played and he practiced but nothing grew fonder. As far as the boy could tell, life was an object and was solid, therefore could not change itself without first being melted away or broken, and that was something the boy did not want his life to go through as long as he owned it. So he went on to live, day after day, hour after hour, minute by minute. And never once did the boy think to crack his life, for that would mean inconvenience and perhaps pain. And these were not worth the change to fondness. So reasoned the boy.
As things live, so do they crack. To live the boy had to age. And after a numbered amount of minutes living and hours playing and days practicing and he aging, the boy must also crack. To not crack would be life standing still. And as the boy aged, he did not allow the attention to his melting and breaking, for that would only allow unnecessary discontent, and there was no reason for that. So reasoned the boy. And so the boy, who was a young man, continued to crack and melt and flake. And never let it show to the difference of the community. And as far as the peoples could tell, the place remained a whole.
As the whole continued existing, the boy who was a young man approached the attention of the peoples. Slowly. Softly. And the peoples could not see the boy’s melting. And they wondered to themselves and with their fondness. Perhaps a boy who does not break. A young man that can not flake or melt. And they wondered. Slowly. Quietly. And day after day they pondered the possibilities as they played and practiced. And none of the community came indifferent to the problem of the boy.
And as they watched, they began to speak and mumble of the plight of the young man that was a boy. And they could not see his fondness. And as the community mumbled and spoke, a girl that was a child spoke a thought. “Why is the boy, that is a young man without a fondness, why is the boy uncracked? Why does he remain a whole within the whole when the remnants of the peoples flake and peel, to be changed to the same as before?” The remnants of the people mumbled. Louder. Harder. And when the speaking rose higher, spoke a girl and a boy, which were young woman and man. “How is the boy that the peoples are not? That the fondness are not? And the boy that is young shows no pain or discontent. That the community could be like the boy.” And they thought and they pondered.
And as the peoples thought in their fondness, the boy, whose man was no longer so young, continued to live and play and practice just as before. But the playing was slow and the aging was fast, because this boy, who was a man, had no cause to be fond. And his flakes and his flecks were hid from the whole, as to not cause pain and inconvenience. And they were paid no mind. And so they continued day after day, hour after hour, minute by minute, to flake and fleck and melt and crack and were not changed to the same as before because without mind, they could not heal. And the boy continued without fondness.
And as watched the peoples of the community of the whole, it was seen that the man who was the boy did indeed have no fondness. And it was thought that the fondness was the cause of the cracks and the melting away. And so spoke a boy, who was an aged man, “The fondness should be made to leave. And then will the whole truly become whole. And the soul will see as it should. And the mind will be not crack from the fondness.” And the community approved.
And so the man that was the boy, though it was no longer easily seen, caused the peoples to throw away their fondness and become whole as they thought the whole should be. And the peoples hid their flakes and flecks and melting away, as they thought they should. And the cracks that grew under the skin, unminded so unhealed, grew and numbered and caused the community to remain unchanged. And as the community was changeless, so were they fondless. And touch was forgotten, and the minds were weary and soul fell slack and curiosities dimmed. And the peoples cracked and melted, until they broke into people. And the community wavered. And there was no longer every boy and every girl. And the whole shattered into parts. And the people lived, but because of the fondless, the minds and the souls and life began to become quite still.
And the parts lay unmoved. And the cracks were hidden. And an old man, who had been the boy, was watching. And as the cracks went unseen, time grew to believe they never were. And the days and the hours and the minutes were seamless, there was no play and there was no practice and there was no change. And time saw that the place which was once a whole had no peel, no fleck or crack. And the whole began to fade.
And as the old man, who was no longer the boy, watched time cause the community to fade and die, he cried. And when the old man cried, he saw his tears and as he watched his tear, he saw the crack they had fallen from and caused to surface. And when he began to mind the crack, it began to heal. And the old man was changed to the same as before. And as he minded this crack, he thought of his flakes and flecks and melting away.
And as time faded the community, the old man rejoiced in his pain and began surfacing all that had been broken and hidden that it might change and heal. And then, cried the boy that was the old man, “I have found my fondness, if only for this short time.” For thought the boy as the place that was once called a whole faded, “to not crack would be life standing still. And a still life is no life at all.

End