It was an odd sort of day traversing semi-alone through the streets of the west side of Chicago . I say semi-alone because my brother was with me, but he remained unassuming throughout the time spent there. I figured I would finally make use of the monopod I had acquired from my late cousin's collection of gadgets and gear and took it with me on the journey.
A few blocks down the way, I noticed an odd looking concrete space next to a building around UIC, the University of Illinois in Chicago. It featured a statue of a Greek man, dressed in a robe carrying what looked to be a vase with a snake wrapped around it. I stared for a few moments before taking a few pictures, figuring he represented some form of history involving medicine. Especially considering all of the med students floating about the general area, sporting their uniforms and ID badges.
It took me a moment of fiddling with a few settings on my camera to notice a voice, sort of worn, but not exhausted. It had a texture that was a little... graty?
"It's astounding... seeing how far you have all gone. Beyond anything I could fathom."
I jumped, and if it wasn't for the fact that I was gripping my monopod pretty tight, I probably wouldn't have had this picture to upload. Looking around a moment, I didn't really see anyone, aside from this lone guy who I assumed was a bum... but he was out of earshot.
"You all have managed to find out mysteries of ailments we simply assumed were the work of the gods." The voice spoke once more, this time seriously having me freak out, as my brother couldn't hear anything, and certainly wasn't the one talking.
For some reason I found myself looking at the statue and then noticed who was really speaking.
"Uh, dude...you're a statue." I said, hardly believing my own words. "I don't think you're supposed to be talking... Who are you anyway?"
He apparently wasn't surprised at my reaction, saying "Actually, I am Hippocrates, physician of Greece... and you are?" His voice had a thick, greek accent, and he had a rather peculiar grasp of the english language. I guess he managed to pick it up over time from the idle conversations of passers by.
"O-oslo..." I stammered out of shock. "Nice to meet you."
and as if the elements of the West Side of Chicago managed to slip in somehow, he replied with "Yea, nice ta meet'chu too.", sounding considerably less greek.
It was then that I snapped out of it, realising that I was in fact talking to that bum.
I gave him whatever change I had in my pocket and headed back to my car. Shaking my head in utter confusion of what just happened.
... I definitely needed a drink that day.
liked this. I liked it too. You should check out her gallery. She's my Kiwi. :3