Choices
Contributed by gt
on Friday, 5th November 2004 @ 06:17:38 PM AEST
Topic:
short
|
The heavy door slammed. He clung to the handle as if the chilling wind threatened to rid the ground of his feet. The old man’s long coat kept some of the wind away from his frail body, but did nothing to stop the rain soaking him from head to toe. He fumbled with the door’s key, his hand numbed by the cold. He turned away from the building towering above him, and slowly, carefully on the wet ground, began to descend the stone steps.
When he reached the pavement below, he pulled his cap further down over his brow, and dragged the coat up to cover his neck. The coat was already sodden, but it made him feel better that he was at least trying to avoid the storm’s ferocity. He sighed, and began to walk down the pavement. “Bloody rain”, he muttered.
The man continued walking, to the other end of town. Neither the rain nor the wind had stopped or even faltered in it’s thunderous rampage. He thought that the weather had got worse, if anything.
Eventually, he turned the last corner, onto the street that had filled his thoughts for so long, so many years. If he had had the energy, he would have run to the fifth house (there was a time when he preferred to think of it as a mansion) on the left, number twenty-six, but he could not manage more than his current shuffle, dragging his tired feet along the concrete. As he reached the entranceway he knew so well, he stopped, turned. Examining the garden, and others close by, he quickly determined that the thirty or more years that had passed since he had last been here, could not possibly have passed. Everything, even the gardens, looked just as it had when he had left, over thirty years ago. But different. The gardens, and indeed the houses, were the wrong way round. Instead of the gravel drive and brand new thirty year old Jaguar on the left, there was the lawn. And instead of the lawn on the right, there was the gravel drive and brand new thirty year old Jaguar.
He shook his head, confused as to why his memory would let him down in such a way. Nevertheless, he turned back to the door, unlocked it, and stepped inside.
It was a shame it couldn’t be real.
Copyright © gt
... [2004-11-0506:17:38]
(Date/Time posted on site)
|
|
<<<<<< Story Index
>>>>>>
Advertisments:
|
|
Story Rating
|
Average Score: 0
Votes: 0
|
|
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others