-Words Unspoken

[Words to Image. Random picture/random thoughts, mixed together to form a spontaneous short story on the fly]

Many people jot down their thoughts in journals. They log away their fears, joys, and aspirations to preserve them for future times. A quick flip back, a re-read and one could revisit their own hearts and mind.

Pompeii met with the Yakatan every morning to share of himself. The Yakatan would listen intently to everything he had to say and silently record it within his limitless memory. Pompeii would pour out his heart and soul and never once trouble himself with pen and paper. He talked, the Yakatan recorded. The flow was never obstructed.

One day, Pompeii stopped talking and looked up at his mighty horned stenographer. He thought for a moment and then asked, "I have been talking for many years now. And you have been listening to me, recording my every word. Had I the need to revisit what I have said ... what is next? Would you speak it to me? You know, I have never even heard you do so. Can you, even? I don't understand this. What is next?"

The Yakatan snorted and stomped his mighty hoof. He lowered his head and brushed one horn up against Pompeii's shoulder. The two stared into one another's eyes. Pompeii could see a world of peace and understanding in the 2 mighty globes that stared back at him. He felt comfortable and understanding in them. They were his best friend, looking back. Void of judgment but full of resolution. He stared at them until he knew what he needed to do, to be.

"Haha, I guess the best words to be spoken are the ones that need not be," Pompeii said. "If you understand them and their direction, then your own voice is all you need."

The Yakatan snorted and stomped his mighty hoof again, this time with more force. Pompeii started talking again. But this time, he learned to pause occasionally ... and listen. There was much to hear.