Paradoxically Yours...

Enigma

(prompt: 'temptation'  22/12/17)

Goddamn... it's too hard. I can't do it this time. He's sweating profusely - feels like even his eyes are bleeding - just like his poor swollen fingers. He looks at them ruefully. How much is a man supposed to suffer for his art? He often questions himself like this, and usually, somewhere, somehow, finds the courage to keep on keeping on. But it's getting tougher by the day. Each time I have to create another rebirth.

He sighs heavily. The temptation to take shortcuts in this exacting process is stronger than ever. So far, the revivals were works of deep satisfaction as he found himself reliving their glory days and  persevering with them, against all odds. As their inner life and beauty reappeared as a result of his painstaking attentions, he achieved a level of personal pride few others would ever experience, or even understand.

He's always had this knack of feeling the life hidden deep within these beautiful old darlings, as he fondly calls them. He sees some as males, others as females. He can't really say why. One thing they all share - they all but breathe under his skilful touch, slowly but surely gleaming anew with their particularly special warmth and charm. It's like a bizarre kind of gratitude, he thinks. As though each one knows I'm its saviour. That it's my gift of a new beginning... a new life. And though he's given his creations their second chance willingly and lovingly over and over again, for the first time it's looking as though he'll have to admit defeat.

I've tried. God alone knows how hard. And how many impossibles I've achieved. But this one would take a miracle. It's breaking my heart to give in... be forced to compromise. But it's no use. It's beyond me to repair the ravages of time and neglect. It's reproduction or it's doomed to nothingness - to being tossed on the scrap-heap of Life.

His gnarled hands stroke what he lovingly calls the shoulders of his latest darling and he actually croons his sorrow to her. "Shh my little honey. I will take the best care of you - more than anyone has ever done - more than you can imagine." And he devotes himself to the faithful reproduction of all that made her special. Such is his patience and skill, it's impossible to find the artificially created replacement parts by the time he's done. It's as though that grand old Captain's chair smiles again, ready to welcome several new generations into her loving arms and perfect rest to weary backs.

As though she smiles? He grins knowingly at the twinkling eyes and thankful heart he sees before him. She is his darling and he alone knows the joy she feels to be back in the real world again, ready for the next hundred years or more.

His creed says, "... not trying to create something new, but honoring the integrity of what already exists."

As always, he has followed his creed to the letter.