Hypnotised

He used to scowl in displeasure when people think he was hypnotised by his own teacher, but now he settles for sighing. Just a small sigh and a smile, to show it’s okay if they don’t understand exactly what happened in that one moment, because to be honest, he doesn’t fully understand it either.

He was out fishing with his brother like normal; maybe they exchanged a little small talk, maybe they didn’t, but they were working. And he’s pretty sure they were spotted first before they looked up to the sound of someone calling them, and saw a man. His first impressions? Probably nothing too remarkable; typical curly brown hair of a Jewish man  in nondescript Jewish clothes. He’s not one to remember all the details, even during one of the most life-changing moments in his life.

The clearest thing he remembers, though, were the kindest eyes peeking out of a shadow cast by the sun, and his words: “Come, follow me.”

Several images of his ma popped up at that moment, warning a smaller version of him to “Never talk to strangers!”. So he did what he always does whenever people tell him to “never do such-and-such” – rebel.

Okay, so he was young and foolish, but there was something that was quietly compelling about the stranger’s words. All right, he can admit to being a little bored of his job, too, and there was an unspoken offer of adventure in those three simple words. No, he wasn’t hypnotised. Yes, he’s pretty sure. Why is he sure?

It’s because he left his fishing net behind and his old life behind, and nothing has ever been the same. So if people have to put him in a box (like they do to everyone else), then he’d rather be labelled as “irrational”, because the only things in this world that belong to him are the choices he makes.

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