Rain lashed against the window pane. ‘Another miserable day,’ the old
man thought as he turned from the window and walked back into his room.
He sat down on his favourite chair and drew it close to the fire. The
heat from it made him drowsy and he was soon fast asleep.
Sleep
came easily to old Jim these days, now in his 92nd year he found his
dreams better than reality. Each dream he had always centred upon
Eleanor Elphinstone, a still sprightly woman who had also recently
celebrated her 92nd birthday. Jim and Eleanor had gone to the same
school, in fact they had been in the same class at primary.
All
his days Jim had coveted Eleanor but he had never been able to work up
the courage to ask her for a date. In his dreams, however, it was oh so
different. They were young again and they were a pair. He visualised
them running through fields hand in hand laughing, they were deeply in
love. In his dreams they talked, went to the movies, dined out, danced,
had days away together. All was bliss in this perfect dream world, then
he would waken.
In the real world Jim was a loner. He had never
really made friends nor for that matter had he made enemies, he was just
painfully shy. He had been an only child and a lonely one too. His
parents had died when he was just eighteen and he had no living
relatives. At school he would only speak when spoken to and when he
started working it was as a night-watchman in a warehouse where his only
contact with humanity was when he signed on or off of his shift.
His
shyness made shopping an ordeal for him, he made his purchases quickly
and rushed home as fast as he could. Every night of his long, lonely
existence he thought of Eleanor. She had always smiled and shown a
kindness to him whenever their paths crossed. No one else ever did.
Sometimes Jim would cry in his solitude. He often asked himself why he
was so withdrawn. What frightened him so? He thought of how different
things could have been if only he had the courage. Eleanor had been a
bright and bubbly child who as she matured oozed charm and made friends
easily.
The wind battering the rain against his window roused Jim
from his slumbers. The fire had gone out. He shivered and looked at the
clock above the mantelpiece. It read 11.40, time for bed. As he changed
into his night attire he made a vow that tomorrow he would speak to
Eleanor and do what he should have done years ago, and ask her out. He
spent a restless night tossing and turning thinking of the momentous day
that lay before him.
In the morning he rose, shaved and put on
his best suit and put aside his walking stick, he wanted to look younger
today. He set out at eleven and walked to where Eleanor lived. There he
waited… and waited … and waited. For four hours he waited until his
courage started to fail him and he decided to return home.
That
night when his evening paper had been delivered he settled down in his
favourite chair by the fire to peruse its pages. He flicked through them
until an article caught his attention. 'Yesterday at 1.30 pm while
shopping in High Street a 92 year old pensioner, Miss Eleanor
Elphinstone was fatally injured by a hit and run driver …'
Jim’s
eyes filled with tears and he sobbed loud and long, eventually he rose
from his chair and ventured through to the kitchen to find some matches
to light his cigarette. He inhaled deeply in an attempt to sooth his
pain then walked back through to his chair by the fire. Soon, in spite
of his trauma, the heat put him to sleep and as usual he dreamed of
Eleanor and the chance he had just missed and, as he slumbered, the
cigarette slipped from his fingers and fell to the carpet.
- THE END -
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