Hello, and welcome to the first (of many) guest posts. Today’s writer goes by the mysterious name of “The Military Gentleman’s Wife”. This is her first published story. It is a vignette entitled,
Observations from My Window
I didn’t notice him at first, all 22 stones (at least), sat on my wall at the front of my house. I was absorbed on finishing the bespoke, reversible masks I was sewing for my daughter. I was totally oblivious. I had seen him before many times since lock-down, walking up and down our street, usually with a can of beer in his hand. He always wore a dark green shabby coat, baggy grey trousers, a red t-shirt with a slogan on it and dark red jelly bean sandals. He was somewhere between 50-70 years old, with long white hair, a beard, and his face was much tanned, like someone who spent a lot of time outside. Perhaps he was homeless; he had that defeated look about him. I was annoyed that he was sat there. What if the wall collapsed under his weight? Was I liable to pay compensation if he hurt himself, besides paying for the repairs to the wall?
The man looked up and down the street as if expecting someone. Lots of people passed the time of day with him as they walked by. I continued sewing. What if my daughter didn’t like the beautiful Japanese designs on the face-masks? I thought that they were gorgeous.
The man crushed his empty beer can and put it into the bag that he was carrying. He stood up slowly, wearily, then carried on walking down the street. I breathed out. If he sits there again, I will send my husband out to do some gardening. They’ll chat and I’ll find out all about him.
I must learn not to over-react to things. After all it’s just a wall. The face masks? My daughter loved them.