"..............."

Who am I?

It's an ancient question even the most remotely sentient homosapien has either uttered it or thought of it at some point in their lives but this is his life, which casts a vague uniqueness; not entirely epistemological, more so into the metaphysics of human nature. The bus rides seems an eternity, especially when these questions stranges the mind, one becomes aware of how unwelcome the vast horizon becomes. He tried to focus on today's paper. More of the same: Cooperation fighting to gain control of their dwindling assets, skirmishes and wars breaking out in foreign countries, the government still trying to push the docile beast of public duty over its half-witted subjects and politicians--mindless serpents--still gambling over public ignorance. He put the paper down in despair. He thought about his two sons and their families. His youngest just had his third child, Amelia, but they only sent him pictures of the newly remodeled room and the crib. An empty room! Who sends their father pictures of empty rooms? His eldest son would send him medium format photographs of places he's been, of things and, what he could tell, of vacation spots he and his wife were on but none of them showed himself nor his wife.

I am 56 years old. I work security for an industrial firm in Van Nuys. I have two sons who never step foot in the house after we sent them to college. I am married, for 32 years now, but haven't seen my wife for twelve of those years... He looked down at his hands, they were tensing up, shaking violently. He didn't understand why he felt so much anger. The thought of returning home night after night to an empty, desolate home burned, to the very core, his heart. They were away, far beyond his reach. Soon, though he dared not think it, he might forget them entirely. The hairs stood on the back of his neck and he felt a cold chill pass. He rubbed his forearms, looking over, unconsciously, across from him. A strange woman seated with an unusual skin color. piercing black eyes bearing a hauntingly beautiful yet expressionless face. Their eyes met a moment. He saw, for the brief time his eyes investigated her, a gold necklace with a pendant in the shape of a heart. In the center of it a name he could not pronounce: Dauthr. He unconsciously touch his chest. His heart was racing. He was perspiring as well. He turned his head away and closed his eyes. Who am I? He grinned at himself. 'My stop is coming up. I guess I'll find out then.'