The Many Faces of Edmund Fig (ManxMan)

Take a bite. Chew. Swallow.

Simple right?

No. Nothing is ever that simple, no matter how much we may want it to be. Because that simple bite can become more than you can handle and everything breaks and scatters. You could chew the wrong thing and end up hurt. You could try to swallow and choke. In the end nothing is simple. Or so I thought, that is until I met Edmund Fig. No not Ed or Eddy. You were to refer to him as Edmund or be damned to burn in hell for the remainder of your unworthy existence. Literally.

I met Edmund in the eve of winter. He had a gray trench coat on with large black buttons, knee high riding boots, a fuchsia and white knit cap and a distinct red scarf wrapped so tightly around his neck that I thought the poor man might pass out. He simply stood in front of a tree and stared at it as if were the answer for everything. He was in his own world. If a car accident occurred behind him I doubt he would turn from that tree. I sipped my coffee lightly unable to look away.

"Staring a hole into my face isn't getting you anywhere."

I blinked slightly taken back. He voice sounded much older than he appeared. The man half glanced at me before deciding to completely turn towards me, his murky gray orbs meeting mine evenly. His sharp cheekbones could give diamonds a run for their money.

I coughed uncomfortably realizing I was still staring. The man simply stared back seemingly unaffected that a complete and total stranger was eyeballing him. I took a large gulp of my coffee and nearly had a heart attack. I coughed violently, the heat from the scorching liquid consuming me all at once.

The man didn't frown, crack a smile or even laugh at my embarrassment. He had the same passive face, those murky eyes trained on me unquestioningly. I straightened and wiped my mouth with the back of my glove. His lip curled ever so slightly and he turned back to the tree. I took that as a dismissal and hurried across the street to the bookstore and quickly went inside, my eyes hesitantly searching for Mr. Trench coat. All that remained was my spilled coffee and that tree. I frowned and shook my head before I began to overthink it.

I would eventually walk to the same tree and stare at it that same as Edmund did the day we met. But I wouldn't be listening for answers. I would question everything around me. I would question life and death, fate and ignorance, pain and heartbreak. I would understand why Edmund stared up at this tree and never get the answers that would plague me until the day I died.