As they peered through the thick glass of each of their homes, they wondered who and why this man was here. Just as the rest of humanity is, they were curious for these answers.
The man hadn't a care for the afraid gazes of these quiet people. He knew and felt the stares of wide eyes, but smiled, shrugged, and gathered his belongings into the house. His name was Joseph, and was a young and independent man. He had wavy, brown hair and joyous green eyes. He stood tall above the ground with his shoulders straight, yet he lacked a main source of happiness. He hadn't someone to share his house with. Not a mother, nor father lived to the day. He tucked away this pain like a treasure chest at the bottom of a hidden ocean.
Joseph had one mission, and it was to find the right something to hide this pain further from him. He was on the quest for peace at heart, mind, and soul. It was the beginning of the end, and he was ready to make the effort for this quest. He prepared himself to destroy the walls of solitude that fortified his security.
Mary was the first to greet him with her fake smile and laugh of sadness. She shook his hand with a grip of pure insanity. She was the classic example of the people who only survived to tell stories of grief and sorrow that haunted their lives. She lost her husband to cancer, and her only son to foreign terrorists while stationed overseas. Joseph felt hardened by her radiating sadness masked with joy. He saw through her shroud of smiles.
Then they came by the groups of threes and fives. They all were the same, filled with poisonous sorrow. This was a day Joseph wouldn't forget. He knew his journey was going to be too hard, but how could he give up? He couldn't stop now. It was too late.
