Ugo's memories.

mr. man.

I remember going home from school, I saw an older man passing by on the street. His eyes were staring at the pathway and his big hand was gently holding a cigarette.

His curly hair suspiciously similar to mine was trailing in the wind as he gimped messily. The smell of alcohol, vanilla and smoke wreathed around my nose. I observed, the world around me stopped existing.

He caught me staring, the coldest pair of grey eyes ripped my soul apart, squeezed every bit of warmth to death. My heart was racing, but I kept on walking and staring.

It was seconds, few short seconds which made me feel warm yet cold, full yet empty, alive yet dead. Did I know the man? Did the man recognize me?

He never looked back and I never saw him again. I didn't have the courage to ask anyone about him, I had to live with the knowledge that a man so similar to me is walking this world without a notice.

How would it be if we talked? If we were related, just me and him? A father-like figure caring about my feelings and safety every day, every moment of my life.. it sounds like a fantasy.

Poor man, if he could hear my thoughts, he would throw me into a bottomless pit of weirdness and hope to forget my existence. But it's okay, he doesn't know me and I don't know him.

In the house there was no such thing as a photo of my fater, it would be utterly useless. Likewise with my mother's memories of him.

The questions were choking me, but answers never came, my father stopped existing. Slowly, I lost my hope and stability, everything that held me together. I asked myself often, "Was it just a gentle dream, that I felt at peace once again?".

That is the only memory I have, only piece of dust left in my life after my biological father. Does that make me half stardust?