Dry leaves rustled on the sidewalk adorned by the haunting shadows of bare mangled branches...another spring gone by,another winter came by.The little baby in the house round the corner outgrew his little shoes,the old grandma in the second house had to undergo yet another surgery and his son had another promotion.Time seemed to be moving on,or not.
Cause like everday for the last years,the number of which nobody cared to remember,he walked down.Same time,same man,same route,and same destination,if only anybody knew it.Only his posture seemed to be drooping a little more,his steps a tad bit slower,his silhouette more tired....
The little boy who used to wait to see him pass by at morning has a child of his own and long since given up feeling excited to see him turn round the corner.....playing children had followed him more than once but given up when he turned three corners more and stopped at a flower shop....
Today also he was there,trudging along,like he had an unfinished task,only nobody knew or bothered what....
Sharp shrieks pierced the air and a crowd gathered around the young boy writhing in pain from the electric current flowing through his body...there was no way he could pull his little hand away from the wire mesh holding it like a magnet...there was no way he could retrieve the ball lying inside that mesh...maybe never.The crowd stood like statues,some apalled,some afraid to risk themselves...until a cane stick lashed out at the little hand...the boy lay flung over on the sidewalk,bleeding,whimpering....the crowd moved,but he was already there...so much faster than his stooped pace..so much possessed than his hypnotised stance.....he turned over the boy,took him up in shaking hands,hailed a taxi and sped off....and the crowd stared.The routine had been broken.
That evening,he lay,lifeless,on his son's grave,a single rose in his hand..If anybody had bothered ,he would have known that his 16 year old son had died by electrcution from an open wire in the road,35 years ago,two days before his daily visits to to the cemetory had started.Maybe,he finished his unfinished job that day....maybe...
Cause like everday for the last years,the number of which nobody cared to remember,he walked down.Same time,same man,same route,and same destination,if only anybody knew it.Only his posture seemed to be drooping a little more,his steps a tad bit slower,his silhouette more tired....
The little boy who used to wait to see him pass by at morning has a child of his own and long since given up feeling excited to see him turn round the corner.....playing children had followed him more than once but given up when he turned three corners more and stopped at a flower shop....
Today also he was there,trudging along,like he had an unfinished task,only nobody knew or bothered what....
Sharp shrieks pierced the air and a crowd gathered around the young boy writhing in pain from the electric current flowing through his body...there was no way he could pull his little hand away from the wire mesh holding it like a magnet...there was no way he could retrieve the ball lying inside that mesh...maybe never.The crowd stood like statues,some apalled,some afraid to risk themselves...until a cane stick lashed out at the little hand...the boy lay flung over on the sidewalk,bleeding,whimpering....the crowd moved,but he was already there...so much faster than his stooped pace..so much possessed than his hypnotised stance.....he turned over the boy,took him up in shaking hands,hailed a taxi and sped off....and the crowd stared.The routine had been broken.
That evening,he lay,lifeless,on his son's grave,a single rose in his hand..If anybody had bothered ,he would have known that his 16 year old son had died by electrcution from an open wire in the road,35 years ago,two days before his daily visits to to the cemetory had started.Maybe,he finished his unfinished job that day....maybe...
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