Anticipation

He could barely walk. She was brimming with energy. While he listened, she spoke incessantly. The chillness of the dusk was consuming him and she, had just woken up to the freshness of a bright, sunny morning. She cuddled up to the warmth of the shiny dusk and embarked on a brand new journey. He turned around the corner, anticipating the termination of his tedious journey.

Her small, soft hands clasped the wrinkled folds of his aged hands, as they walked down the buzzling street. She was perhaps a tad over 7 years old. She cheerfully hopped and skipped by his side, laughing, squealing at the excitement of sharing her story. He walked by her side with a quiver – slow, meditative and almost fraught with trepidation to walk any further.

She was frail, pale and slightly undernourished but with her bursting vivacity, she, in her own earnest manner, seemed to distract him from his senile aches. She impatiently chattered and described a novel experience that had newly captured her imagination – her first day at school after the summer break. She giggled, pranced on her feet and recounted every detail. Suddenly, carried away by the sheer thrill of her chronicle, she hopped ahead of the old man, dragging him on his feet.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! Come, come let me walk with you. So, you know, I was so excited, it was like…,” she caught up, after stepping back to walk with him.

He was unflappable and almost unmoved by her animated narrative. He pushed his Scottish muffler back on his shoulder, clasped his glistening, polished, ornate walking stick a little firmer and tread cautiously, unsteady, occasionally nodding and rarely glancing at her. His spotless white polo t-shirt slung around him and his oversized cargos dangled from his waist downwards. Walking in his apparel seemed like a punishing ordeal by itself, humouring her fantasies was far too arduous.

His vision blurred. His knees crackled. He was turning around the corner, anticipating the termination of his ‘tedious’ journey. He steadied himself to part with her reassuring gentle clasp. He stepped aside and loosened her grasp. She, with a glint in her sanguine eyes, leapt on her feet. She swirled on her toes and shrieked… bizarrely. The weary old man briskly turned around, waddled on his feet and witnessed the grandiose end of his tedious journey in its utter vividness. The pale, frail little girl lay reduced to grotesque carcass.

A shrill end to his tedious journey: a bubbly, gurgling plot came to a screeching halt.