100 Ways To Fall In Love

The Storyteller

SPACE

Someone You Loved - Featuring: The Storyteller

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Sabito, in every sense of the word, was numb.

Numb.

Such a pretty word. Perhaps not in appearance or sound but in meaning. No, even the meaning wasn't that pretty. It was pretty, perhaps only in theory. In contradiction to everything that Sabito stood against. In dramatic irony of the moment; as if life were nothing but a Shakesphere play meant for everyone else to stare at and gawk. In suspense of disbelief.

It was pretty and it was pretty because it was everything that Sabito was not yet also happened to be the only thing he could feel.

Sabito, in his own humble opinion, and according to what everyone else had ever said about him, was an eccentric person. When he was sad he was unconsolable; when he was happy he beamed; when he was angry he was indignant; and when he was numb he felt absolutely nothing at all.

Attending your funeral, your last exhibit, had most definitely not been on his calendar at the start of the year. He wouldn't have wanted it to ever be on his schedule. Not for at least another forty years or so and even then he'd have wanted it to be after him.

But, alas, this world does not work the way we wish it to. It sways and turns in unpredictable ways and us, the ships upon this perilous ocean, are meant to weather it to the best of our humble abilities.

Sabito thinks that you (or whoever decided the specifics around this) have chosen a rather pretty venue. White decorated walls with delicate designs crafted into the blank space. They remind him of the swirls you used to draw on the edges of your paper during class or the designs you'd make when bored. Symbolic of so much chaos and creation, if possible.

He hasn't been to many funerals before but Sabito didn't think there would be so many photos of other people. He supposes he shouldn't be all too surprised, considering this also serves as your final exhibition, but it's still strange. Almost as strange as the fact that your body has already been buried.

Only you would have your body buried before your funeral service.

Sabio wouldn't consider himself the most knowledgeable of your works but he has always been aware of what you'd done. Always tried his best to take a look at the latest collection of photos you published to the public. So Sabito finds himself relatively surprised when he comes face to face with dozens of unfamiliar photos. All the faces are familiar but none of them are exactly like the ones he's seen before.

It feels almost mocking that the photos are smiling back.

Most of the photos are unfamiliar faces. People Sabito remembers you once referring to when he'd meet up with you years after his own had been taken. He's almost surprised there aren't more photos. Though, maybe not considering how picky you had always seemed with who you allowed in your company.

A man Sabito does happen to recognize is the Auteur.

There's an almost crazed smile on the Auteur's face in his photo. His white hair is half messy and that weird braid going down the middle is pushed off to the side slightly. To Sabito, it looks as though he might've just finished a long run through some abandoned forest in the middle of nowhere and only just arrived where he needs to be. And you would have liked that. In fact, you must have liked something like that considering it's this photo that now hangs off the wall alongside so many others.

If photos could tell stories, Sabito imagines that his one speaks of a man that has only just discovered taste. That it is his first time experiencing the world in such a way and he hopes to have a taste of everything. To overindulge despite the consequences.