there will never be a darker day than the days before tomorrow. You get me?” “I think I do John.” I do, John. You’re not the only one. I walk on a little further, taking in the scenery once again. I think of my mother. I park myself on the concrete rim of one of the garden beds and decide to call it a night. The night doesn't scare me, nor does what resides in it. I lay there, staring up through the trees, into the empty night sky. Light pollution masking the stars. Beautiful. I wake the next morning, birds chirping. Children's laughter carried by winds. I sit up. My shirt still damp and dishevelled, and my shoes creased. I notice that I can't feel my watch on my wrist. And it just so happens it’s not there to be felt. No surprise there. I close my eyes, and smile as the freezing cold winds caress my shirt and face. I open my eyes and recognise what it is that I'm sitting on. I pick it up and examine the
chain. It appears to be the chain of the man who I had met earlier this morning. It’s accompanied by a 20 dollar note. Well, that’s the cab sorted. My grin broadens. Whether the old man took my watch, or he saw it missing and gave me his things out of the goodness of his heart, I don’t know. If I were to meet him again, here in this place, this garden of Eden, I would thank him dearly. I love the twisted nature of humanity, the good and the evil, the white, the black, and the grey; the experience will stay with me the rest of my life. The watch pales in comparison to the memories made the previous night and the story that will be told before a fireplace in the nights to come.
70
Made with FlippingBook flipbook maker