3980. He became friends with the Blacksmith’s boy, but that had ended in disaster, and he had to flee. Then came the itinerant performers. The skits and one act plays Otis had performed with them now seemed long ago, even though only a few months had passed. He was aware that in his entire life the time spent with the itinerant stage performers was the most exciting and meaningful thing to ever happen to him.
3981. His memory of that time was a memory of a golden age of his past, a time when every day was full of unexpected and yet exhilarating experiences. He had a sad thought as he sat there alone in the woods in the middle of the night. “What if,” he wondered, “my life will never produce another time like that, what if I will be doomed to go through life alone with only a memory to take any pleasure in.
3982. His
memories of his past were a bit idealized however, because he chose to overlook what had been missing. As completely as he understood all the skits and their meaning and
significance, absolutely nobody understood his involvement, and his creative
contribution.
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