You see, earlier that morning, the Woman was struggling through childbirth. By virtue of city traffic and the nature of public transport, He was not able to encourage her through the rigors of bringing a life into the world.
She died that morning. Four minutes after the birth of the Girl. Ten minutes before He sprinted through the lobby doors. They told Him what happened.
He was walking down the road a few minutes later, blinded by grief, beset by meandering thoughts of a now impossible future. When He raised His eyes from the street before Him He noticed how far He'd come. He was at the Bridge.
On the Bridge He saw the Boy. The Boy was, by all appearances, very calm. Very collected. Very sure. Reasonable. The Child sensed somehow that His Time was coming to a close. The Boy was also on the precipice. The Edge. The Boy looked at the Man. The Man gazed into the eerily familiar eyes of the Boy.
They stood thus for what seemed to be some time. Not a word was spoken but there was undoubtedly a discussion. They thought together of the world and of the Important Things in life. Of Love and Loss. Life and Death. They thought together from the viewpoints of Childhood and Maturity, from Wistful and Wise. They came to a conclusion.
Maturity thanked Childhood for His Time. Childhood thanked Maturity for Understanding.
The Man walked back to the hospital. He stood outside for a moment, readying himself for what awaited. The Joy. The Sorrow. The Tears. The Regrets.
And the Hope.
The Man made his way to the nursery. He stopped outside the door, suddenly uncertain about many things. Slowly, so slowly, He walked into the room.
Wisdom picked up His Daughter.
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