The task is to write a fictional story about a real man Hristo Atanasov, who lives and works in Bulgaria. After having the chance to learn about this man and his story I am so wonderfully touched. I love the simpleness of the most mundane everyday things. I think that is where the magic of life comes from so I wrote Hristo's story in that vein - a simple moment for a man who's not so simple life has bettered the lives of so many others. I hope all your days are filled with as much goodness as you have brought to the people you have helped and I hope my story does you justice!
All Liquid Steem from this post will be sent to Hristo - thank you for your kindness to others and being an inspiration to us all!
At the end of it all where do we really end up? Do our life choices matter? Are we something more than congealed lumps of star-stuff ambling around in the voids of the world?
Hristo woke suddenly. He shook his head to clear hi mind - fogged from heavy sleep. His tired eyes surveyed the dim room, lit by the first rays of morning. The room in this light had a certain sense of something - a sense of knowing, timelessness - it held so many memories. Hristo lay back on his pillow and took a deep breath. He watched the rays dance across the faded paint as the sun rose, shadows from the trees outside beginning to drift through the space. He took another deep breath. And then another.
Soon, Hristo would be hearing the noises of the children beginning to waken, slow soft grumblings of mothers not quite ready to rise, banter not quite finished from the night before, and the sound of the home itself awakening - breakfast, coffee, songbirds, chatter, even the sun itself seemed to join in the noise. But it was not quite that time yet; Hristo took another breath. The light continued to dance and play across the walls, with each passing second Hristo watched to room come to life - the greys of the night fading into the colors of the day. He sat up and looked out the window at his small plot of land and surveyed the grounds.
The greens of spring were peaking through after a long cold winter, and Hristo could just imagine the children running out the door on their way to discover - blossoming flowers, bugs, games of pretend, and a world of potential still so untapped. Then men and women would follow, some mothers and fathers, some just here in need of a place to call their own - on their way to work or to some other place for the day, knowing that tonight they would still have this place to call home.
Hristo smiled and put his head back down; he took another breath and thought about how different the world had become.
He himself had been an orphan. That is what had compelled him to take in the first member of his family so many years ago. He remembered the day so well. It was long before he had owned the former veterinary clinic in which his family resided. Long before he had worked in the field of recycling when he himself felt that he was only at the beginning of his journey. He had been working alone cleaning up a local park. The sky had been a blue, the kind of blue you only see in winter, played up by the blanket of snow cast on the ground. The wind was pushing a coldness across the field that even the sun couldn't quite warm one from. and out of nowhere, there he was. A tall boy, fifteen, if Hristo remembered correctly. Wool hat pulled tight over his ears and scarf bundled up his neck he had approached Hristo with a jaunt and a smile lighting up his face.
"Hallo, sir", he had said his words frosted by the chill outside.
"Hello", Hristo had replied, " How can I help you son?"
That was how it had started. A simple exchange of hellos in a park so many years ago. Hristo chuckled to himself, the green walls of his room now alight with the fullness of morning. He heard the first patter of small feet across the floor and the telltale "Eeeeeeiiii" that signaled the start of the day. He smiled and rolled out of bed, his bare feet touched the warm wood floor. He whipped the night from his eyes and crossed the room in a quick stride. He threw open his door and beamed. The family he had so lovingly cared for was in full swing - kitchen buzzing, children shrieking, sleepy people looking for a cup of coffee to start their day. "Yes," Hristo thought to himself, "This was all you could ask for in life."
