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Rated: E · Short Story · Philosophy · #1523565
Story about a good day.
    Today I was sitting on a bench looking at the world around me. It was a beautiful day in San Diego, and sitting by the water gazing out into the endless blue seemed like a good way to kill the afternoon. As I light up another smoke, I watched a ship being moored to the pier, and everyone started getting off and walking past me. Their loved ones were waiting for them in the parking lot, and as each sailor saw the person that was waiting for them, their faces filled up with such joy. They ran to each other, hugged and kissed, they were so happy to be back together. I found this so interesting because it really brought out the humanity of these people, all the pain and loneliness they had been feeling was gone, and for that moment as they embraced that other person they loved them more than they ever have before.

    A little later as I was walking to the store, I saw a man walking on the side walk adjacent to the one that I was on. He was obviously homeless, his hair and beard were matted with dirt and grime. His clothes were tattered and filthy, and they hung off of his skeletal body. His every move was jerky and uncoordinated, it was more like he was convulsing down the sidewalk. We got to the intersection, and I hit the button to cross the street, and he did the same. I looked at him from across the road, and he gazed directly back at me. His eyes were as black as his dirty face, and he opened them wide, peering at me.  The traffic stopped and we began to walk toward one another, his fixed glare never diverted. At about an arms length I looked up and our eyes met. His face was twisted with madness, he muttered something to himself. Those black eyes were completely dead to the world. We passed each other. On the other side of the road I looked back to see where it was he was going, it was then that I noticed that he had a large knife in his right hand. I hadn't noticed it before, because his coat had obstructed my view of it. He strolled awkwardly off the road and into the woods, and I thought to myself that I never want to be like that.

    I arrived at the store; I had nothing to buy, so once again I sat on a bench and watched the people around me. I light up a smoke and let my mind wonder off to a place far away from here. Before too long I came out of my trance and realized I was unintentionally staring at an old man sitting across from me. I discontinued my gaze, but before long I was drawn to look at the old man once again. He was a gray haired relic from a different age, the greatest generation they call it. He was in the winter of his own life, and now all there was for him to do is watch the birds. The look on his face was a mystery to me; I couldn't tell if he was looking at the world with contentment or contempt. I wanted to go up and ask him about his life. I wanted to hear about it, all the things he has done, the places he has seen. Most of all I wanted to know if his life had been a good one. I wanted to know if he felt cheated by life. I felt like that was my future, an old man sitting outside in a park dreaming about my own life. His wife walked out the door of the exchange, and put her hand on his back. He turned and smiled at her, and raised himself up from the bench using his walker. They paced towards their car, got in and drove off. I light up another smoke, and let my mind wander once again.

© Copyright 2009 Garr Catastrophian (catastrophian at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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