An old man and a young boy were both sharing a chair – one’s skin was grey with wrinkles, the other’s freckled and fair. They glanced at each other every now and again, but nothing more, nothing less…so silence sustained.
But as he sat the old man thought to himself: “What if, what if, what if? …what if I’d followed Sally from Dover’s cliffs? What would I have seen, and what would I have done? Where would I have been, and what would I have become?”
(He wrinkled his face further, and furrowed his brow – because that story had been circling for quite some time now.)
But as the young boy sat he thought to himself: “What if, what if, what if?…what if I create a rocket jet pack – and fly away with one fiery lift? What would I see, and what would I do? Where would I go? And would it work in the snow?”
(He scratched his head and thought one more time. Knowing that soon it would be real…yes, soon he would shine.)
…anyway, some minutes passed and they were still sharing that chair, one’s skin grey with wrinkles, the other’s freckled and fair. You could only hear silence but they had the same question there:
“What if, what if, what if?” – both a dream, and a nightmare.