By Neel Anil Panicker
There he is; an apology of a figure, a small moving dot on a fast obliterating horizon.
From my perch by the fourth floor window that looks out onto the desolate street that’s cloaked in darkness, I gaze out to him, my eyes all intent.
I see him come, hobble rather, a weary old figure, the shoulders hanging out loosely around his reed thin frame as if they were some wilted flower; the feet, thinly sticks dragging themselves over the water filled cobbled pathways.
He drags past Abdul’s and all of a sudden he looks up.
Briefly, very briefly, our eyes meet.
We converse in silence.
He drops his neck and ambles into the ramshackle building.
In a moment he would be walking up the creaky stairs and step in through the door; the door that’s been left open ever since he left half a day ago.
I flick my wrists and gaze at my watch.
The needles rest on 12.
It’s the start of another day.
Pity, we wouldn’t be there to greet it.
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FFfAW Challenge – 166th