An old gentleman is seated on a train, quietly looking out the window, noticing everything that passes by: the lines of houses, the wire-connected poles, the rolling clouds, the children at play. A woman he does not know is seated next to him. Smilingly, he waves to a passing hay wagon. “See,” he chuckles, “Hay going to the barn. Isn’t that wonderful?” The woman is curious. “What is so wonderful about a hay wagon?” she asks. To which the old gentleman gently replies,
You think it strange that a hay wagon means so much. But, you see, last week the doctor told me that I have only three months to live. Ever since, everything has looked so beautiful, so important to me. I feel as if I had been asleep and have only just awaken up.
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