Stories of the street - Ten A & B

---A---


“How old am I now?” He asks himself as he looks out of the small window in his bathroom.

He watches the steam from his bath trail in weak strands out of the room and simply disappear. He wishes that he could follow that steam then he shrugs before taking the bathrobe off to climb into the bath. He had noticed the sparrow hawk again, swooping through the alleyway behind the shops like some dark messenger. He had shivered at the memories.

“Sixty three!” He thinks to himself. Too young to really remember the war but old enough to remember rationing and to have experienced being conscripted into the services. He had wanted to go into the Navy but had been too timid to do anything but wait and see what was given to him. Like so many others he had ended up as potential cannon fodder wearing an ill-fitting uniform, square bashing to the harsh noises made by one non-com or another.

Sixty three with dark memories which spoiled all those wonderful years filled with the upsurge of enthusiasm and the growth of the power of young people. A member of the Rock ‘n Roll generation who was still young enough to enjoy the swinging sixties.

The shadow of his early life passes across his face and he tries to turn off the memories before they started to flood into his life again.

“No respite in over fifty years.” Was a sobering thought to have with your early morning bath. For as long as he could remember he had always thought the same thought as he sat quietly in the toilet or lay semi-relaxed in a bath. Wouldn’t it be nice to waken up now and discover that everything, his whole life, had just been a bad dream and he could now begin to live it properly, without all of the hurt, failures and disappointments.

He is now beginning to wonder if that is exactly what happens when you die. Somehow, it makes the prospect of death attractive and he toys with the idea for a minute or two before wiping it aside like the soap on his leg.

---B---


A very small cat moves fast along the wall that runs the length of the alley at the back of the shops. He is still very young and his thin legs move with a certain lack of grace born out of inexperience and size. He knows that this is the most exciting place to be. The rodent smells are intense as he rips along the rat run alert to every sound, movement, change of light and smell. He is a little killing machine ready to capture, play with and tear apart any creature he finds. His little heart beats fast and he burns up energy without regard for rest or where he will find his next meal. Life is just too much fun to worry about such things. Go cat, go! There is something waiting to be discovered on the other side of this old plastic bucket….