As he sat there, he watched the people. The people with all different backgrounds and histories. All the stories. He wondered what would they be without those stories? Would they even have a history?

Tradition is kept by being passed down, he thought again. What if it wasn’t passed down? Would we all have the same opinions? What would happen to all the heritage? Would it be lost forever?

He had a love for history. He loved looking into to people’s pasts. He loved trying to get into that person’s mind and see what they thought. He loved analyzing if something would be in existence if a certain thing hadn’t taken place.

I suppose that’s why he loved it in the first place. He loved that every second that makes up the past is different. Different for everyone. Millions and millions of people have lived and yet not one of their stories are exactly identical.

He was amazed by the beauty it had created. He was amazed that everything today would not have been possible if it wasn’t for history.