The One

A man was sitting on a black bench. He was looking at activities of daily life at a distance. He was watching each large groups of people walking, running, laughing, crying, speaking, thinking. He didn't move like a statue. He was wearing white shirt, white trousers, white hat, white shoes and clear glasses. The day was cloudy but light poking out of one hole from the cloud was casting a sunbeam over his whole body. He was holding an opened book with red cover and yellow frame.

Another man came and sat on the bench. He was looking at other around front and back, left and right at first. Then he noticed the first man. He then looked at the book he was holding. It was blank with nothing on the paper, not even lines. They couldn't be for note as he wasn't holding any pencils or pens. The second man ignored him for a while. The first man had not yet changed his pose. He was staring and staring at the front for half an hour since the second man arrived.

"Nice cloudy day, isn't it?"

The first man finally looked at the direction of another man. He returned to his pose afterwards.

"Yeah... there's seems to be no rain..."

"Do you know that I've been here since half an hour ago?"

"Yes, why?"

"The man kept staring at the front."

"You have a strange sense of fashion."

"Thanks..."

"Alright let's get on with it... What are you staring at...?"

"Nothing... nothing particular. Just observing the daily life as usual here."

"I've never seen you here."

"That's because I might not me so important..."

"What does that mean?"

"It's complicated..."

"What's your name?"

"Christoph..."

"Christoph who?"

"That's an odd question... why do you wanna know?"

"It coincidentally reminds me of one book I've read not very long times ago."

"It's just Christoph..."

"Are you the one who wrote 'The Empire Remnants'..?"

"Yes... that's me."

"Your book is infamous for having all of your named characters being called 'Christoph'. A lot of people found your work distasteful and some even theorize you as being egoistical."

"That's what they think... but the truth is not that simple."

"Alright, I guess you are as what they said... a narcissist."

"Think of me as whatever you like. I'm glad that I at least got an identification. A villain who only see himself as one guy. Got it..."

"What's your problem...? I've never seen someone who is happy for getting called out. Are you that desperate to get attention? What's your motive?"

"I'm lost..."

"You lost all of your loved one..? Is this why you made the book only of yourself to remind yourself of your loneliness?"

"Loved ones... I never had loved ones... nor hated. I was always alone. And you might not believe the next thing I'm about to say."

"Say it."

"I don't know where I came from. "

"Memory loss?"

"No... It's that, I feel like I just popped out of nowhere. Like, I was never been borned young. Everyday to me seems beginningless. Everything I did feels pointless."

"So, you don't pay tax...?"

"I don't live anywhere... I've been wandering everywhere and I will keep walking and walking. I don't think I can die either."

"Where did the book came from then?"

"I don't really know... but what I know is that I wrote it... I published it, and that's it. Probably some random bookstore... I don't know."

"Why did you write it... do you not know that too?"

"I wrote it so that I have a purpose. I don't know why I exist so that's the only thing I do know."

The second man got up and prepared to leave. While he was walking away, he said from the distance...

"Have you decided the ending...?"

"Not yet..."

The End.