**Episode 59 - THE HEDONIC TREADMILL**
**Part Eight: The Long Way Home**
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The next morning...
No one was eager to leave the village.
Not because it was extraordinary.
Quite the opposite.
It had quietly become...
Comfortable.
---
The baker waved as he kneaded dough.
The children raced through the streets, arguing passionately over whether butterflies had favorite flowers.
An elderly couple watered their tiny garden together without saying a word.
They had apparently reached the stage of life where entire conversations could occur through eyebrows.
---
Tarzan watched them for several minutes.
"...THEY HAVE MASTERED TELEPATHY."
---
"They've been married for sixty years."
the old woman replied.
"It's almost the same thing."
---
Breakfast consisted of fresh bread, honey, cheese, and tea.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing luxurious.
Yet nobody reached for more than they needed.
Nobody compared their meal to yesterday's.
Nobody asked whether another village might have better bread.
They simply...
Ate.
---
Milo noticed.
"Something is different here."
The Collector of Ordinary Things nodded.
"There is."
---
"What is it?"
---
"We celebrate."
she answered.
"...but we don't worship."
---
Everyone looked at her.
---
"When someone succeeds..."
she continued,
"we celebrate the achievement."
---
"But we don't build our identity around it."
---
"When someone fails..."
"we comfort them."
---
"But we don't let failure become their identity either."
---
"We remind one another..."
"...that both success and failure are visitors."
---
"Character is the one who lives here."
---
Professor Gandalf smiled.
"I've missed this village."
---
Tarzan whispered,
"...I THINK MY CHARACTER LIVES IN A TREE."
---
"That explains several things."
Milo replied.
---
Everyone laughed.
---
After breakfast...
The travelers prepared to leave.
The villagers gathered near the edge of the road.
There were no grand speeches.
No dramatic farewells.
Only warm smiles.
Firm handshakes.
Simple hugs.
---
The old woman approached Tarzan.
She handed him a small empty glass jar.
No label.
Nothing inside.
---
Tarzan looked confused.
"...IT IS EMPTY AGAIN."
---
"It isn't."
she replied gently.
"It simply hasn't happened yet."
---
She closed his fingers around the jar.
"Fill it with moments."
---
"Not objects."
---
"Not trophies."
---
"Moments."
---
Tarzan nodded very seriously.
"I SHALL CAPTURE..."
He paused.
"...A VERY POLITE SUNSET."
---
"I think you'll do just fine."
she laughed.
---
Milo received a leather-bound notebook.
Its pages were blank except for one sentence written inside the cover.
> **"Measure what matters carefully. Some things become smaller the moment they are reduced to numbers."**
---
Milo read the sentence twice.
Then quietly closed the notebook.
For once...
He didn't write anything.
---
Meera was given a tiny packet of seeds.
"They're ordinary wildflowers."
the old woman said.
"They bloom every spring."
---
Meera smiled.
"Not rare?"
---
"No."
---
"Then why these?"
---
"Because you'll see them far more often."
---
"And happiness..."
The old woman gently touched the packet.
"...needs repetition more than rarity."
---
Meera held the seeds against her heart.
---
Arjun received a compass.
Not a magical one.
Not silver.
Not ancient.
Just a simple brass compass.
---
"It only points north."
he observed.
---
"Exactly."
the old woman replied.
"Life is confusing enough."
---
Diana received nothing at all.
She looked surprised.
---
The old woman smiled.
"You already notice."
---
Diana blinked.
"What?"
---
"The ordinary."
---
"You don't need a reminder."
---
Professor Gandalf received a long embrace.
Nothing else.
He seemed strangely moved.
---
Finally...
The old woman stood before everyone.
"There is one last lesson."
---
The entire village became quiet.
Even the children stopped playing.
---
She pointed toward two roads leading away from the valley.
One was broad.
Smooth.
Beautifully paved.
Bright flowers lined both sides.
A wooden sign read:
**FASTEST ROUTE**
---
The other road was narrow.
Winding.
Uneven.
It disappeared into a quiet forest.
Its sign simply read:
**SCENIC ROUTE**
---
Tarzan looked at both.
"...WHICH ONE IS SHORTER?"
---
"The first."
---
"WHICH ONE IS BETTER?"
---
The old woman smiled.
"That depends."
---
"On what?"
asked Arjun.
---
"On whether your goal..."
she said softly,
"...is to arrive..."
"...or to travel."
---
Nobody answered immediately.
---
Tarzan studied both roads with remarkable concentration.
Everyone waited.
This felt important.
---
He took one step toward the fast road.
Stopped.
Looked at the scenic path.
Looked back.
Scratched his head.
Thought.
Thought harder.
---
Milo sighed.
"Oh no."
---
Tarzan pointed confidently.
"I HAVE DECIDED."
---
"Excellent."
said Gandalf.
"Which road?"
---
Tarzan grinned.
"I SHALL TAKE..."
A dramatic pause.
"...THE MIDDLE."
---
"There isn't a middle road."
---
"There WILL BE."
---
Before anyone could stop him...
Tarzan marched directly into the bushes between the two paths.
Branches shook violently.
Birds exploded into the air.
Leaves flew everywhere.
A squirrel screamed in protest.
Someone heard Tarzan confidently announce—
"I AM CREATING..."
A loud crash.
"...A THIRD OPTION!"
---
Silence.
---
Another crash.
---
Then...
Tarzan emerged from the bushes covered from head to toe in leaves.
A vine hung around his neck like an accidental scarf.
His hair contained what appeared to be half the local ecosystem.
---
He looked at everyone proudly.
"...THE FOREST..."
He removed a twig from his ear.
"...HAS REJECTED MY PROPOSAL."
---
The entire village burst into laughter.
Even Professor Gandalf laughed so hard he had to lean on his walking stick.
The old woman wiped tears from her eyes.
---
Finally, Tarzan brushed the leaves from his shoulders.
He looked once more at the two roads.
Then, without another word...
He quietly chose the scenic path.
---
No speeches.
No dramatic declaration.
Just...
A choice.
---
One by one, the others followed.
The fast road remained empty.
Not because it was wrong.
But because, today...
They realized there was nowhere so important...
That they wanted to miss the journey.
---
Behind them...
The little village slowly disappeared into the morning mist.
Ahead...
The jungle waited.
Unchanged.
Yet somehow...
Entirely different.
Because the travelers themselves had changed.
---
Far behind them, standing beside his colorful wagon, the Merchant of Tomorrow watched them disappear into the forest.
He smiled to himself.
"They'll forget."
he whispered.
Then he laughed softly.
"And then..."
"They'll remember."
---
The old tortoises continued walking.
Patiently.
As they always had.
Because they already knew something that humans spent entire lifetimes discovering...
The destination eventually becomes a memory.
But the way you travel...
Quietly becomes who you are.
---
**End Of Episode (THE HEDONIC TREADMILL) **
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**Episode 60 - THE SHADOW OF ENOUGH**
**Part One: The Whispering Jungle**
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The jungle welcomed them...
Exactly as it always had.
With birds arguing over invisible matters.
Monkeys inventing unnecessary problems.
Leaves applauding every passing breeze.
And somewhere...
A waterfall repeating the same ancient sentence...
Without ever becoming bored of saying it.
---
Tarzan inhaled deeply.
His shoulders relaxed.
"...HOME..."
he whispered.
"...SMELLS LIKE WET LEAVES..."
He smiled.
"...AND SLIGHTLY CONFUSED MONKEYS."
---
One monkey immediately threw a mango at him.
---
"It recognizes you."
said Diana.
---
"...IT HAS EXCELLENT MEMORY."
Tarzan replied proudly.
---
"It threw fruit at you last year."
---
"...EXACTLY."
---
The monkey threw another mango.
---
"...OUR FRIENDSHIP CONTINUES."
---
Everyone laughed.
---
They continued walking beneath enormous trees.
The sunlight filtered through thousands of emerald leaves, painting moving patterns across the forest floor.
Nothing extraordinary happened.
No monsters.
No collapsing temples.
No mysterious portals.
Just...
Walking.
---
For nearly an hour...
Nobody spoke.
Not because conversation had ended.
Because silence itself had become interesting.
---
Finally...
Milo broke it.
"I keep expecting something."
---
"What?"
asked Meera.
**TO BE CONTINUED... **
Written By,
Ivan Edwin
Pen Name :Maximus.
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