(these days I am quite busy, and when i am busy i sometimes get nervous or too emotional. So when it happens I end up with writing some small stories and put some of my ideas into them...and well...probably other people will get the idea somehow as well...haha...this is one of those)
An old man was living in a huge house. He was living by himself. His wife had died long time before and all 7 children that he had were now spread throughout the world – each of them in a different part of it.
The old man's favorite hobby was wine. He had his own vineyard of a very high quality and he was also buying a lot of different wine from different countries. He was not drinking a lot though, but rather doing all that for the sake of esthetic pleasure.
One day he bought a single bottle of a very expensive and pure-quality wine. So he put the bottle in the underfloor where he usually kept all his collection.
The bottle was standing there and thinking to itself: «The fact of my existence is great, because I contain such a pure and good-quality wine. I am made according to the best standards. I love the liquid that now fills me; this wine is so much a part of me».
But the bottle was worried a little. It had a vague feeling that one day the owner of the house would get back to it and drink all the wine from the bottle. «What would I do then? I can't imagine my life without this particular wine filling me».
One day an old man had guests coming over his place. So he went to his underfloor and took that bottle which contained high-quality pure wine.
By the end of evening the bottle was almost empty. All guests really liked wine.
When the bottle was put down back to its place it felt sad. «I am now almost empty, I only have a little of this wine left. And it is so much a part of my life. Why would I want to exist if all the wine filling me is gone? I understand that wine is serving for other people’ pleasure and satisfaction, but why couldn't things be a little different way? Why couldn't we stay like this forever – me and this wine? »
The bottle knew that it now had very small time left to spend with the wine in it, but at the same time the bottle decided that it would enjoy the rest of the time being filled with wine.
However, several days later the old man took the bottle again and now finished the wine all by himself. He found that the bottle was of a very beautiful shape so he decided to keep it somewhere, because he could still use it for storing other liquids.
The bottle was settled on his kitchen. And the bottle was very sad. It didn't have the wine that was so much a part of its life in it anymore, but moreover, it now didn't have anything at all inside it.
About a week later the old man brought some wine from his own vineyard and he decided to keep it in the beautiful bottle that he previously used. So the bottle, now filled with a different type of wine, was sent back to the underfloor again.
It was a weird feeling. The bottle was sure that it didn't like the new wine that it now had in it. Or at least not as much as it loved the previous one. But the bottle was trying to convince itself that things were still ok and right and that everything was perfect, and that the new wine was a worth substitute of the old first one, the one that the bottled liked so much.
Thus it continued for several months. The old man was putting different liquids into the bottle, and every time the bottle was trying to convince itself that a new liquid was better than the very first wine. But somewhere deep in itself the bottle knew for 100% that there would never be anything else that could be compared to the very first experience. Yes, that first wine was the very important part of bottle' existence.
One day the old man took the bottle and put some wine from it in his glass. He was very surprised to discover that the wine was spoilt.
«Probably, the bottle is old and broken and it is not possible to store anything else in it; my wine will be spoilt».
The bottle was very sad. It indeed didn't feel like it could be filled with any new liquids any more. And it still missed the very first wine that it had in it. Without that first one it felt useless.
The old man thought for a second... then he approached the trash can and threw the bottle into it.
Miriads of tiny little cracks appeared on bottle' surface. A moment later the beautiful bottle broke into thousands of small pieces... And it was never ever able to contain any high-quality liquids in itself. Any liquids at all.
Read more...
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
