Ski Question

The strangest of the event happened several years ago. But today, as he recounts the event of that day, something even stranger, but inter-connected, is about to happen.

The last conversation we had was funny and also wierd in a lot of ways.

We met at a bar.

“Come on tell me the story again. I mean I know it was a traumatic experience but still it is intriguing in a lot of ways. Would you please tell me.” I pushed him as much as I could.

“Yes it was traumatising and very wierd.” He chuckled and replied. “And it is difficult when I recollect and retell the whole event to anyone. And that has happened a lot as I have friends like you who ask me again and again. But I think each time I tell it, it becomes, somehow clearer. And spotless.”

“Okay, then try again.” I replied.

“He had completely tied me up and gagged me. I didn’t even remember where I was before and I had a splitting pain in my head as my blurred vision became clearer and I saw him sitting across me and staring at me. He was not threatening but he held a gun in his hand. And he was smiling. An odd smile. I tried screaming for help but the gag was really tight and I couldn’t emit any sound that transcended the gag. So I sat silently with horrifying fantasies of what was about to happen and the guy starts talking.”

He said ” you know I went ice skating with my family and I went up a lonely hill of snow and sat there. I let out a scream to relieve myself of the physical and mental pressure I suddenly felt as everything around me weighed in on me. But the scream was not enough. Not enough to help. And a small avalanche rolled by me, disturbing nothing around it . And that’s when the question dawned on me. And that’s the question I want to ask you now. And I know you can’t answer because I have gagged you but it doesn’t matter my friend. Because the question only has one answer and no one knows the answer. No one I see around here. No one in this world can tell me the right answer. So the gag. It doesn’t matter my friend. And even if you gave me your best answer and it is the wrong. That’s fine to. I don’t think that the wrong answer will be a problem.” 

My oppressor stood up and checked if his gun was properly loaded and I could see that the safety was on all this time he was talking. He looked at me with a smile and went out a door that I had never noticed until then. The next thing I heard was a loud bang and within minutes I could here people screaming outside and in due time cops found me and helped me return home.

“Don’t you think it was all a prank of your oppressor. I mean he says all this to you and then he goes out and kills himself. Why would anyone sane do that? He must’ve thought that he would fuck someone up before he killed himself and that someone was you. How crazy is that? It’s like some kind of cosmic fuckery that happened to you man.” I said as a reply to his entertaining epilogue.

He smiled and said “well that’s the thing. Everything that guy said? It somehow makes more and more sense to me the more I think about it. His words create a sensible impact, the more I think about them.

“Okay.” I said. “So, you think this guy who gagged and told you about a question he wanted to ask you but then killed himself without asking it, is a guy who makes sense in his action? If that’s the case then what do you think the question was? Tell me.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what his question was. But I think it was something in the line of what is enough?.” He replied and finished his drink in one sip.

I stared at him silently. He got up and said “I’ll be back in a minute” and walked away. I finished my drink with a giant gulp and felt the burning, cheap alcohol run through my troubled body.

And that was the last I saw him.

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