An uncrowned king

The person sitting at the desk squinted, as faint green sunlight scattered through the curtains. Thoughts drifted like wisps of air, slowly dissipating.

The wind raced somewhere, and clouds billowed and dispersed. Back then, I used to ride bicycles and feel like an uncrowned king.

He reminisced: I used to gather wild berries with her, feeding them into our mouths while lying on the grass. We reached our hands into the soil, feeling the cool dampness enveloping our fingers.

Underneath the grey-green stone wall, she waited. It didn't matter if he returned home.

He caressed the shallow grooves on the wall, faint traces of words barely visible: "I want..." What is it that you want?

A verdant haze blurred his eyes, and he heard the chirping of birds.

who's calling out to me?

Tree roots beneath the tree twisted like serpents.

"How can one become the king of the universe?" he innocently asked, but soon he fell asleep against the tree. People say one must cross an endless sea and in the West, everyone fights over a crown of power. But one must first climb a flight of stairs and wait for guidance.

Upon the tall building, a person surrounded by the crowd asked him to wait. Looking outward, he saw only vast emptiness. Bursting into laughter, he suddenly turned around and left.

"Where are you going?" people asked him when he departed. "To find what I seek," he replied.

And now, he finally returned. "Did you find it?" people inquire.

The person sitting at the desk stretched lazily. The afternoon sunlight was delightful. Descending the stairs, he sat on an old wicker chair, embracing everything in the twilight.

"I found it."