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If I were an empty bottle, I would serve my life as being a messenger for the helpless people drowning in the sea. I would take their messages to their loved ones and although they might never be able to help them, the fact alone that I, an empty bottle, could be with them in their final hours, would fulfill my desire to be of any help to them.
I imagine myself taking the message of a lover to his fiancé. As his ship had been broken in a violent storm and there was no way he could swim to the shore, he would find me in his kitchen or under a heap of useless things and put a note inside me that read “I tried everything in the world to save myself and be with you.”
I would swim along the forceful waves with just one purpose. If I could find that soul to whom the message was addressed to, I would be the happiest bottle in the world. It would mean that being empty does not necessarily mean being useless. I would try to protect his letter from being drenched in the harsh sea water so as not to perturb the taste of the lad’s tears mixed with woe in his writing. I would take shelter in a broken vessel, if it rained in order to be able to arrive safely in the poor girl’s hands.
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If I could not make it to the shore and would be stranded at sea, maybe one day the girl herself would come in search of her fiancé. She would explore the sea and searched for him. No matter how impossible it would be to find him and no matter how much people ridiculed her for being insane enough to go for such an absurd quest, she… at the point of returning back would discover me! An empty bottle? But, no! It had a message! (Berbrich, 2002)
She would then recognize her beloved’s handwriting and would learn that how much he struggled and endeavored to be near her in his last hours. She would cry softly with me in her hands, the empty bottle, which was probably the last thing he touched before he died and whisper inside me “Thank You!”