Understanding Asphalt

Merlin regarded the eyes opposite him. Surrounded by paper-thin wrinkles of skin, the blue irises were as sharp as ever, although weary and somber. A smudge above the left one. He tried to wipe the blemish off, but it was more stubborn than Merlin was interested in cleaning the mirror with the hem of his jumper sleeve.

He spat his toothpaste into the sink and took a sip of water, wiping droplets out of his white beard. He shuffled into the tiny kitchen, picked up his thermos with gnarled fingers and tucked it into his tatty messenger bag. As he shouldered the creaky back door open, he pulled a blue beanie over the white hair he never felt the urge to cut. Breathing in the heavy, cool hair, he felt his feet begin the instinctive path through the garden, down the three stone steps to the sidewalk. Down past the black iron fence, past all the little houses with diamond patterned windows, past the duck pond with the one decrepit duck, past the park where old women walked their cats, and down to the main road. Merlin walked along that for a bit, until he came to it. The lake.

Down the little path, to the comfortable wooden bench Merlin had put there himself a long time ago. Merlin huffed slightly as he sat down, his old joints complaining. He took out his thermos and his mug, poured himself a cup of tea, and sat sipping.

"Good morning, sire." he mumbled, "You've got to get up soon, you have morning training today with the knights, and then a Meeting of the Council."

Merlin took another swig of tea as the wind stirred the surface of the lake. he continued his one-sided conversation,filling in his long-lost friend on the happenings of the world as he always did.

"The liberal democrats have formed a union and the new labor leader is a woman. Surprisingly, that ruffled a few feathers. They took a while to get used to that idea. Maybe that was Morgana's fault. Hum. Sire, if I were in a bad mood, maybe annoyed with you, I may compare you to Boris Johnson. Man is a...prat. Good thing I'm not annoyed with you today. Haven't been since...well, you know."

Merlin took a breath, coughing wheezing.

"Anyway. Also, there's a thing called the X Factor. It is comparable to those Meles. Foolish things. And...And..." Merlin tried to continue as he did every morning, but his through caught. He coughed again. "Tickle in my throat. Must be sickening. You work me too hard, c-c-clot...pole."

Merlin tried the coughing ruse again, but the moisture in his eyes betrayed him. He was alone, he told himself. There's no one here to see you cry. There's no one. No one at all.

Rain started to fall, big, heavy drops plopping into Merlin's mug of tea. Wind followed in quick pursuit, chasing strands of the white beard and hair around Merlin's face and whipping the water of the lake into a frothy mixture. He looked out over the grey water, and, surprising himself, pushed himself off the bench and shuffled to the edge of the lake. In all the ages he had seen pass, all the times he had come to visit the lake, Merlin had never touched it's waters. But today he felt tired, more tired than he had ever felt. His time in this life was ending, he could feel it. Felt the tiny thread keeping him to life was about to snap. How he had lasted this long would be a mystery to him. How could any human be expected to witness the world turn, ages pass, empires rise and fall, all in front of him. He didn't even feel like a person anymore. He was just a pair of eyes, just watching all the sorrows and misery of the world. Yes, there had been good bits too, but Merlin never seemed to remember those as vividly. And how was expected to live with the loss? He pondered on the concept of Death, and what it would bring. Would it be black, or would there be something beyond the corporeal world? He figured it didn't really matter at that point. It would be over. His slow and lonely existence.

The waves lapped at the toes of his leather boots, but left no dark patches of water. Merlin took another step, both feet in the lake. He picked up his left foot to take another step, and noticed that the water was not behaving as it should, his boots were perfectly dry. With effort, he reached down and put a hand in the water. Not cold and wet, as he expected, but warm and dry, like a warm breeze.