He steadied his feeble legs and lowered himself onto the bench. It was his daily ritual. Every afternoon the old man would sit himself down on the bench and stare out at the barren fields with the interlocking clumps of withered grass. 

Out on the war-torn fields, nothing existed. A ghastly wind murmured through the vast, vast emptiness. 

Emptiness all around. 

There was something hollow in the air that seemed to linger, yet was not there. But that was no matter for the old man. He saw past all of it into his deepest thoughts. No, not thoughts. Dreams. And as the old man dreamt, a faint glow of joy flickered across his eyes. 

A little boy approached the old man. He skipped his legs and kicked at the round, idle pebbles that scattered about the ground. Light brown overalls tainted with pieces of dirt billowed loosely about his body. His bare arms and legs were exposed to the lush summer sun. He tried to scramble onto the bench, but his height did not permit the action. The old man reached down and lifted the little boy into his lap. 

“Hello,” said the little boy.

“Hello,” said the old man.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m dreaming.”

“About what?”

“About everything.”

The little boy gazed curiously at the old man.

“What are you looking at?”

“Something beautiful, something very very beautiful.”

“What do you see?”

“I see a peaceful stretch of ocean, where the waves are rolling in the shimmering sunlight. Look at all the mysterious creatures wiggling impatiently in the water. Ah, so many of them. And over there, the dolphins putting on a brilliant show. They are my friends. My long-time friends. Now, look here, at the lonely sailboat teetering in the breeze. The fisherman has caught something big. Something that will make a nice meal for his family when he returns home.” The old man gestured eagerly as he spoke, as if wielding his words into a palpable reality.

The little boy laughed and clapped his hands.

“What do you see?” the old man asked the little boy. The little boy stared intently at the scene before him. For a few seconds, he sat there without speaking a word. Finally, he opened his mouth.

“I see a million flowers. A million pretty flowers. The kind mommy really likes. The kind I give mommy on her birthday to make her smile.”

“What color are the flowers?”

“Red, mommy loves red flowers.”

“Do you see any other things?”

“I see a tall, green tree. It is lovely cool under the tree. Oh, how I want to sleep under it and hang from its branches all day long! Below the tree lies a little pond. A big, big bird is drinking from it. The bird asks us to go on an adventure. Should we go?” The boy waited for an answer.

“Why not?” shrugged the old man. 

With that, the two of them were off. They traveled to the brink of the horizon and to the depths of the earth. They traveled so high that the people on the ground looked like tiny ants and so low that they felt the ground shudder within them. They traveled across golden skies painted with watercolors and over rugged mountains that daintily wrapped themselves with blankets of falling snow. And when they were tired they would eat apples from the tall, green tree and savor the sticky juice that dribbled down their chins. 

The little boy sat on the old man’s lap until his mother discovered him there and led him home. Afterward, the little boy visited the old man every day. They went on many adventures together. Sometimes they would soar on the big, big bird, and other times they would sail on the fisherman’s boat. Once all that could be explored was explored, they suddenly began seeing other things. Other new and more fascinating things that would continue their adventures.

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Gradually, the little boy grew older and was sent to school. He still visited the old man sometimes, but not every day. Soon, he was more interested in sports and girls and felt that the old man’s adventures had become increasingly dull. By the time he was enrolled in middle school, the little boy moved with his family across the country and never saw the old man again. The little boy attended college and earned a degree that made his parents proud. After college, he opened his own business and became a businessman. 

One day, upon chance, the businessman visited his hometown after receiving a client’s call. The client was friends with a reputed manager and he hoped to secure some connections. After he had conducted his business, the businessman parked his car beside a battered gas station and walked a few miles to take a long smoke. His legs soon grew weak and he settled on a wooden bench to rest. Beside him, sat the old man, just like before. Nothing had changed, except the boy was hardly little now and he had all but forgotten about the old man and his adventures.

But the old man still remembered.

“Hello,” said the old man.

The businessman jumped a bit in his seat and glanced warily at the old man. After a while, he replied, “Hello.”

Then, the two of them descended into silence, with unspoken words filling in the gaps between them. At times, the old man would fidget a little and change the direction in which he was gazing. The businessman puffed at his cigarette until only an ashy stump was left, and he buried it into the ground with his heel. He stared out at the barren fields for a short period longer and proceeded to rise from the bench, beginning his journey back to his car. Just as he was turning away, he heard the words: “What do you see?”

It was uttered by the old man. Breathed almost. Like it was squeezed off of his chest by force and now lay embarrassingly naked in front of the disinterested businessman. The words were so quiet that the businessman asked for a repetition.

“What do you see?” the old man repeated.

“Why how funny you are!” exclaimed the businessman, amused. “What do I see? I see a field of dead grass, that’s what I see. What else can there be?”

“You see nothing else?”

“I told you, I only see a field of dead grass. Quite ugly grass too. Someone should do some work on these fields.”

“Hmm. Is there really nothing else that you can see? Look with your heart this time instead of your eyes.”

The businessman glanced at the old man incredulously. “How many times do I have to tell you? All I see is a field of yellow grass.” 

The old man only nodded sluggishly and turned his attention away from the businessman to indicate that the conversation was over. The businessman continued his retreat and soon, the old man was hidden by a sheet of rain. Cursing at his awful fortune, the businessman took off his coat and carried it over his head as a makeshift umbrella. He ran now, through the pouring droplets splashing across the sidewalks. When he was only a mile away from the place where he had parked his car, a sudden spark caught his eye and a thundering explosion followed. Just the weather, thought the businessman, who continued running along.

After two or three more explosions, however, the businessman knew that something was wrong. He hurried towards a nearby store, seeking temporary shelter. The door was locked. As the businessman swerved on his feet, another explosion sounded and he fell onto the ground. Darkness followed, cradling him in its arms, like the way his mother used to do when he was little. In an instant, he was safe. Safe in the embrace of the universe. 

He felt like a floating balloon. The kind little kids pick up at circuses and accidentally lose hold of on their way home. Wandering, yet free. Unknowing, yet at peace. The darkness all around him shielded him like a warm bubble of air. It told him that finally, everything was going to be okay.

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The businessman woke up in a white hospital room, with the invigorating scent of clean alcohol stinging at his nose. No, he did not wake up - his eyes were not open. But they were; the businessman could feel his eyelids straining to peel back. They were open. A void of meaningless obscurity stretched itself before him. He was still trapped in the dark, but it was not dark now. It was nothing. 

The doctor later told him that his eyes had been damaged during an attack on the village. He was to live as a blind man, feeling the world around him instead of seeing it. The businessman denied the truth for a few weeks, then returned to the city and continued his work. He learned to use his hands and not his eyes. Look, but not see. And sometimes the nothingness around him seemed to expand. He could not measure it, but he was certain that there was more. 

And while he navigated his new life, the businessman grew older. So did the old man. Soon the old man became too frail to walk to the bench. Shortly after, he lay upon his resting place with the angels singing above, and the bench lost its companion. 

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Now and then an image of the old man would surface to the businessman’s mind. He could not stop thinking about him. The encounter was so queer, so abrupt - like there was something left unsaid, something missing that he needed to find. And so, many years later, when the businessman was retired, he went in search of that something in the little village.

“Hello,” said the businessman.

“Hello,” replied the old man.

They sat on the bench silently, like before.

“What do you see?” asked the old man.

“I can’t see, I’ve lost my eyes.”

The old man chuckled. “Who said we see with our eyes? Look again and tell me what you see.”

The businessman squinted. He sat motionless for some time. He thought long and hard about the nothingness that lay before him. 

And then he saw. 

It came so suddenly that the businessman almost tumbled off of the bench. He saw the sparkling sea and the fisherman’s boat. He saw the tall, green tree and the big, big bird. He saw the hills and the valleys, the lakes and the rivers, the sun and moon, the day and night. He saw children who laughed merrily and parents who scolded them for scampering on their bare feet. He leaned closer, and he saw a field of a million red flowers swirling in the summer breeze.

“It’s beautiful,” the little boy told the old man. 

“I know,” said the old man.

The little boy crawled onto the old man’s lap and there they sat, hands tightly clasped together.

“So beautiful,” whispered the little boy to the empty air.

Slowly, they became mesmerized with another adventure.