A Short Story Collection

A collection of random short stories from my notebook

Chapter 2

Aged Eyes

I sit at my usual corner on Orange Steeet, the everyday world oblivious to my presence. My eyes stare longingly at the passers-by, hoping one would stop at the rumbling of my empty stomach. Sadly, for many of us, hunger is part of everyday life.

The late morning air sends chills down my spine, and the sound of snow crunching under people's boots nearly deafens my delicate ears. I lean against the mouldy wall behind me for support, and stretch out my now frail arms, wrinkled and sagged as a result of old age. Silhouettes of the ever busy city folk brush past each other, none bothering to exchange a neighbourly gesture.

I move closer to the wall, wrapping myself in my tattered blanket. The years have taken their toll on my once blue source of warmth. The increasingly cold weather has a numbing effect on my body, forcing me to slowly drift to sleep. I huddle under my blanket, close my eyes and let my thoughts wander far from this unbearable.

We live in a rapidly changing world. Wickedness blooms as the days go on. Humanity has simply lost its humane quality. Tales of nation rising against nation have become part of everyday conversations, ranging from the starving victims to the friends and family lost. The weak are put down by the powerful and the innocent are unjustly accused. I shudder as the thought of mothers abandoning children crosses my mind alongside the millions of people who take their lives everyday.

Memories of the good old days come flooding back, one after the other. It was a time when children could play in the streets and parents could rest assured of their safety. It was a time when even strangers showed concern for each other. It was a time when hunger and wars were mere fables, and beggars were nonexistent. Those days began to vanish as the years went by, as did my hope for humanity.

A sharp pain brings me back to the real world. My stomach makes noises underneath my hand, reminding me of my need for food. I clench the make shift blanket and pull it closer. The day passes very fast and, before I know it, the sky turns dark. Bright lights from the gigantic buildings light up the night, bringing Orange Street back to its usual hustle and bustle. Snow crunches under people's boots, taxis stop and go, and noises from the crowd bring to life an otherwise boring street.

One person stops before me and bends over, revealing a ten-year-old's face. She stares at me for a while before allowing her lips to form a smile. She asks me if I am okay to which I nod weakly in reply. The girl places a bag next to me and an apple in my hand. Without a word, she gets up and walks away, leaving a red blessing in my hands. I gaze at the direction she walked in, and a little speck of joy fills my heart. There is hope for humanity after all.

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