Hands Of Time [Chapter 12]

As I lay in bed that night, trying to drift off to sleep, I could not stop thinking about what I thought I witnessed in my attic. Was there any meaning to it or was it a senseless daydream? Who were those two young people? Who was that little baby? As I asked myself these things I was reassured that it very likely had no meaning at all and it would be best to forget the whole thing. As hard as I tried to convince myself of this truth I found my mind gravitating back to these people. My mind inquired easily about the, ‘who’, ‘why’ and ‘where’s’ of the girl but I found that questions pertaining to the young man were far more elusive. I struggled, even to the slightest degree, to try and keep my mind focused on him. Every time I tried to think of him my mind would naturally slip away to thoughts of my wife and children, my work or other occurrences in my day to day living. Why was it that I could not seem to get a mental hold on this young stranger? My drifting thoughts about this young couple eventually caused me to drift off into the world of slumber. And when sleep finally overcame my tired mind and body it was deep, and dream-filled.