From atop a mountain, he watched the quiet village. Aware of every detail of each inhabitant so much so he would finish each of their sentences when they spoke. Yet, his existence remained unknown to them. A few times, some villagers would cast their eyes to the sky, but they gazed past him rather than discovering his presence. Others complained they felt watched yet couldn’t confirm anyone was ever there.

    But the longer he looked after them the lonelier he grew. At times he forgot his position as a guardian deluding himself into believing he was a member. Desperation festered in him to intervene, but if he did, it would change everything. This great debate grew until it could no longer be sustained. If he made contact, he could never reveal his identity or connection to them prior to meeting.

   Rather he would pretend to be a newcomer, and start fresh living among them.



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