Inside Their Minds

He opens the gate that barrs the stairways to ease my entry. I smile at him- his aged handsome face nods and two fingers go to his hat. I walk past him breezily, but I can't help turning to see which direction he goes in. He walked toward the tutorial rooms.

Which is why I was surprised when I walked into the therapy session for observation. I didn't even know he had had a stroke.

I guess when something goes wrong in your brain, the things that were innate in you, ingrained in you don't change. Someone I know used to be really organized. After the stroke, he is STILL really organised. And just maybe, that's the true measure of a gentleman. Is he still one, when he struggles in daily life, when he understands but cannot enunciate, when he tries so hard to say what he means and blurts something else? I've been very fortunate to meet one.

Don't be afraid of the gunshot- it's what sets you free from the block. (Man On Fire, Denzel Washington).