I used to know a boy who loved to count. He wanted to contain the world in numbers. The seas and mountains he tried to manipulate using numbers. Seven, twenty-two, five thousand and forty, a million and more. He never stopped for he felt the world in his hands with the thought that his numbers lasted longer than anything on Earth. But one day, a shadow blocked the sun from his eyes while he was trying to count the leaves of a tree. He then gazed upon two beautiful eyes that made him forget the number of hairs he had on his little head. He gazed and gazed and in his amazement he didn't even bother to manipulate it using his numbers. This was something beyond his grasp. Something beautiful that he wanted to last forever. But one day, he opened his eyes to see not the beautiful eyes, but the world he kept atone in numbers. He was frantic. He no longer counted the things in the world for the world no longer matters. He searched far and wide for those two beautiful eyes to count their eyelashes and call them his own before he loses them completely.