THE CHARACTER

I came to know him when I was seventeen. An English professor in his forties, he was the main character in a short story by my favorite writer, a writer I liked so much that I had read all his novels and short stories.

One day, in the story, the professor received a phone call from his friend's wife. She said her husband was nearing his end. He had been bitten a month earlier by his own puppy, and had contracted rabies unfortunately.

When the professor visited him, his friend was unconscious. He was fighting his last fight with the disease in vain, desperately trying to focus his bloodshot eyes in an uncertain direction. Those eyes reminded the professor that his friend had lived a rather strange life. He had always been absorbed deeply in a hobby for some time - but the hobby had always been changing.

On his way home, the professor reflected about his friend's life. Although the friend had tried to advance in life, he had always ended up circling, coming back to his starting point, like a hiker in a mountain caught up in a snowstorm. Even at the last moment of his life his friend had been trying to look ahead. Remembering his friend's unusual life and unfocused eyes, the professor asked himself: Am I doing the same thing everyday, living the same life every year and ending up in the same place, just as my friend did?

Many years have passed since I read that short story, and now I am older than the English professor. So I ask the same question of myself. Where am I going with my life?