The formal standard suit he chose to wear was too much for his frail body to carry,
just like the memories back at home when his father passed away. Every few
minutes he would check his wristwatch waiting for the bells to ring. Faded scars and
bruises would appear each time he drew back his sleeve while he was hurrying the
hands of the clock around.
Once again the church was active; elderly people with their grandchildren, retired
couples and loyal members of the church, enjoying their morning break with tea and
biscuits. Grandpa sat at the furthest table alone. Jubilation and laughter filled the
space around him as if it was waiting for him to re boost with energy. Everyone was
up and about interacting with new people, except for Grandpa. There was no shift in
his movements. He just sat there... alone.
Grandpa’s doleful eyes reflected back on the times when he had no one. Like two
tinted circles his eyes seemed to reflect on a misfortuned past. His mouth did not
show any emotions, just resignation; he did as his father would do as a soldier by
showing no emotions. His old wrinkles carved a map of his life on his moderate facial
features. The way he slouched down into his chair showed how hard and lonely it
had been. Trying to put the pieces to the puzzle back together from his past.
He didn’t move, his scrunched paper like hands lightly held each other. For now, the
only hand left to hold was his own, along with the only human contact he would
enjoy.
Glancing around the church he took in smiling happy families sharing close
moments, their young childrens faces looking to them trustingly. Young couples just
embarking on new relationships, believing happiness will always be theirs. Little did
they ...