From the Other Side of the Road

It was a nice summer day. I was playing in my yard, running around…well, basically being a kid. But something caught my eye. I noticed an old man sitting in his front porch and occasionally pacing back and forth. I didn’t pay much attention since almost everyone was basking in the sun. But this continued. He came out every day to bask. It was a bit odd, but I forgot about it. I assumed he just liked the sun. I resumed playing without a care about his weird routine.

 

One day, I saw rain clouds gather. A big thunderstorm began. Rain fell down in clumps, drenching the sidewalk. Everyone was inside, all windows closed. However, the old man was outside pacing back and forth. His only protection, an umbrella. He watched the road carefully. He didn’t seem the slightest bit ruffled by the storm.

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It had now become part of my daily routine. I looked outside every day just to check if he was there. And, he was. My thoughts on his ‘basking’ now disappeared. Now, I started to think he was waiting, for something or someone. My imagination took control. Perhaps he was waiting for his son to come home or for his wife to return.

Every day, he looked outside peering at every car and truck from his front porch. No matter whom he was waiting for, his schedule didn’t change. Every morning, the old man looked hopeful. Yet, every evening all hope seemed to be sucked out of him.

 

Then one day, the doorbell rang. A delivery man was standing outside, holding a parcel in his hands. I thought he would ignore the man, but he ran towards him and grabbed the parcel. As he rushed home and shut the door behind him, I almost missed the contented look on his face. The next day, his front porch was empty.