The Man

A sad tune escaped him as he whistled and walked along the path. Nearby a train could be seen moving. He looked to the ground and continued on the dirt path to see a broken feather. It reminded him of his situation. His heart was like a walnut shell that'd been ripped in half‒ hollow, empty‒and worn down as if sandpaper was taken to it. He sighed like he needed the reminder. He moved on from the feather not bothering to pick it up. It’s not like it was perfect anyway. 

The pace he walked at was steady, constant. His battery was running low and he would need a break soon. Fortunately, for him, he had a cookie. But that’s where his fortune stopped. The woman who broke his heart only left him some seeds and one dirty glove. She took the rest and sold the house. He could plant the seeds and let them grow whilst attempting to sell the goods, but he couldn’t find it in him to move forward. His brain had become sluggish and dark. His head would not brighten like a light bulb‒at least not until he could get over her. While his mind was stuck in the gum of the past, he made himself physically keep moving until he became tired. So he found the nicest, greenest patch of grass to sit upon and rest. Any time that someone passed by him they almost never stopped to help him in any sort of way, except the one older lady that gave him the cookie. Usually he sat and wallowed in his unhappiness hoping rain would come to complete his miserable picture. 

The sky was as blue as ever with a few small clouds randomly placed to create a beautiful scene. A tree was nearby but the grass wasn’t the way he liked it, so he sat in the sun without shade or a breeze. He often fell asleep while resting in his carefully chosen spots. The last dream he had there were cherubs that came down from the sky hanging by red thread. The man looked for the woman in these types of dreams and when he found her, she would usually walk away from him. The last dream was different though. He started cutting the thread that connected the cherubs to the sky causing the little angels to fall to the ground and lose consciousness. He grabbed bungee cords to hold three cherubs together at a time. The man took the little bundle of angels and shoved them into his car. He drove to the woman’s house and left the angels at her door. She loved angels and he was able to give them to her. It may make her happy and love him again. But when she opened her door, she screamed and cried. He woke up. He’s been walking since; attempting to shake the dream.

He made himself stay awake this time and knew he couldn’t stand to have that same dream again. So, once he finished his cookie, he got up and started trucking along once more. No one ever asked him why his face always looked so long. He kept everything corked up, but he didn’t know that eventually everything would come out. His misery would eventually start to drip from his lips like a popsicle left out in the sun. The only thing left would be himself and the popsicle stick without a joke‒waiting to be recycled into a better life.

About the Author

Bobbie Stein is a Business Administration major with a concentration in Marketing, and a minor in Creative Writing. She is a senior at Arcadia University and is the treasurer of American Sign Language Club. Bobbie is looking forward to graduating early and enjoying some more free time.