In a shady garage that lays down a long driveway, an old man sits, hands on his knees, and smile as big as ever. He smiled as if it was the only thing keeping him alive
He told stories of when he was in high school, the dumb things he and his friends did and how each dumb thing had a later lesson that impacted who he became
He looks down at his hands and smiles once more, lighter this time and more gentle. Like someone when the bottled up anxiousness starts boiling over in a quiet room. He says, "I used to think that life was about conquering the world but now that I'm older I learned it wasn't worth conquering, it was more about enjoying it, appreciating it."
He paused for a moment. I imagine he was thinking of times when he didn't. When he wasted away his integrity and watch his pride shatter on the floor. When his hands trembled with fear over something he wasn't sure he really regretted.
As the tension evaporated, slipped through wet footsteps from wet feet getting out of the pool, he smiled again
He smiled like it was he only thing keeping it alive
And now looking back, perhaps it was