Post by JoshSmaltz on Apr 14, 2016 16:56:34 GMT
Fog crept across the playground and walking-paths as the rain continued to fall. The streets, flooded by the lingering storm, reflected the gleam of headlights in broken shards. The normally banal bench in Seagate Park sat looking out over the harbor like a widow left lonely by the sea. Isolation washed into the park from over the water, accompanied by a gravity made heavier by the blare of fog horns in the distance. Each swing set and slide sat purposeless under ominous clouds. The warmth of the previous days had given way to a ghostly chill, marked by the puffs of breath hanging around the few souls willing to suffer a damp day. The hushed chirps of Chickadees were the only proof that spring would soon be coming.
Quietly, Roger approached the bench and lowered himself reservedly into the puddle that had formed there. His thoughts were far away and he took no notice of the water now seeping into the seat of his jeans. Reaching into his innermost coat-pocket, he withdrew what remained of the pack of cigarettes he had purchased the night before, lucky to find three smokes left where 20 had sat, not even that many hours ago. Rain drops saturated the paper as he brought the filter to his lips, and a slight hiss could be heard as the flame from his Zippo gave birth to an ember now resting between his pointer and middle fingers.
It hadn’t been more than 20 minutes since he’d excused himself from the Hospital room. There too he had been sitting and waiting, hoping for good news. Nearly a full day had passed since he walked himself to the store and broke the promise to his wife Laura he made nearly a year ago. An eternity had passed now, he thought to himself, from that day when he took what was left of his Camels and cast them into the street. Laura, pregnant with his child, looked on in wonder as the smoker she had fallen in love with prepared to lead a healthy life as father to her child.
The rain continued to batter Roger as he fished out the next cigarette. The park was empty now, save the weary, rain-soaked man seeking shelter within his memories. “A fine example to be setting for my son,” Roger thought to himself. “Laura would certainly have had something to say about it…”
Silence invaded his mind as his thoughts hung precipitously on his wife. 20 minutes, 25 now perhaps; a few thousand seconds- truly a blink of the eye- and the harsh reality of his continued existence had not yet set in. Were he to return to room 203 in the Pediatrics ward he may yet still see her there, lying motionless on the bed that only hours before had played host to the birth of his son. Both husband and wife knew of the risks involved, and yet Roger had avoided considering that “worst case scenario” posited by the various physicians and specialists they had visited when they first found out they would be graced with a child.
Somewhere a few hundred yards over his shoulder, his progeny lay, ignorant to the impact his small life had already made. Roger searched the horizon while ghosts seemed to dance gracefully atop the frothing surf. Looking down into his hand, the final cigarette lay waiting. Looking down into himself, a loss too great for words took hold, suffocating all external desires. Roger, rousing himself with what strength remained, plodded towards the fence separating the safety of the park from the swirling eddies below. Leaning out and over, stuck between desire and duty, a breath away from calamity, Roger paused. Down below him, closer than could be believed, a pair of ducklings paddled feverishly to maintain course next to their mother? Father? Roger could not tell but he knew that it did not matter.
Casting the remaining cigarette out among the waves, Roger wiped the cascading tears from his face, and turned back towards the hospital. With each step, a sense of resolve grew within his heart. Every second ticking by felt new; each breath surging out into the damp, a love letter meant for the heavens.
Quietly, Roger approached the bench and lowered himself reservedly into the puddle that had formed there. His thoughts were far away and he took no notice of the water now seeping into the seat of his jeans. Reaching into his innermost coat-pocket, he withdrew what remained of the pack of cigarettes he had purchased the night before, lucky to find three smokes left where 20 had sat, not even that many hours ago. Rain drops saturated the paper as he brought the filter to his lips, and a slight hiss could be heard as the flame from his Zippo gave birth to an ember now resting between his pointer and middle fingers.
It hadn’t been more than 20 minutes since he’d excused himself from the Hospital room. There too he had been sitting and waiting, hoping for good news. Nearly a full day had passed since he walked himself to the store and broke the promise to his wife Laura he made nearly a year ago. An eternity had passed now, he thought to himself, from that day when he took what was left of his Camels and cast them into the street. Laura, pregnant with his child, looked on in wonder as the smoker she had fallen in love with prepared to lead a healthy life as father to her child.
The rain continued to batter Roger as he fished out the next cigarette. The park was empty now, save the weary, rain-soaked man seeking shelter within his memories. “A fine example to be setting for my son,” Roger thought to himself. “Laura would certainly have had something to say about it…”
Silence invaded his mind as his thoughts hung precipitously on his wife. 20 minutes, 25 now perhaps; a few thousand seconds- truly a blink of the eye- and the harsh reality of his continued existence had not yet set in. Were he to return to room 203 in the Pediatrics ward he may yet still see her there, lying motionless on the bed that only hours before had played host to the birth of his son. Both husband and wife knew of the risks involved, and yet Roger had avoided considering that “worst case scenario” posited by the various physicians and specialists they had visited when they first found out they would be graced with a child.
Somewhere a few hundred yards over his shoulder, his progeny lay, ignorant to the impact his small life had already made. Roger searched the horizon while ghosts seemed to dance gracefully atop the frothing surf. Looking down into his hand, the final cigarette lay waiting. Looking down into himself, a loss too great for words took hold, suffocating all external desires. Roger, rousing himself with what strength remained, plodded towards the fence separating the safety of the park from the swirling eddies below. Leaning out and over, stuck between desire and duty, a breath away from calamity, Roger paused. Down below him, closer than could be believed, a pair of ducklings paddled feverishly to maintain course next to their mother? Father? Roger could not tell but he knew that it did not matter.
Casting the remaining cigarette out among the waves, Roger wiped the cascading tears from his face, and turned back towards the hospital. With each step, a sense of resolve grew within his heart. Every second ticking by felt new; each breath surging out into the damp, a love letter meant for the heavens.
