It arrived on Tuesday
Our dream arrived on Tuesday. After a long wait we got what we wanted. We bought two flats and a shop. Our future secured. Our pension.
And he arrived on Tuesday: my childhood friend. With all his problems and sadness. He’s almost blind, he can’t move his right arm, his right leg drags. He has diabetes and has had two strokes.
Our future hopes quailed before such present problems. Speaking of his life he had told us how utterly lonely and unhappy he had been for five years, after the stroke, after his separation, before he met his girlfriend, before she took him into her home. He is calm and sweet, full of surprise at the hand that life dealt him. He has a quizzical slant to all his talk, struck by how extraordinarily different real life is against the backdrop of his dreams. I feel for him and listen intently.
I put aside my own dreams and hopes and see that they could be smashed at any moment. I might not be around long enough to enjoy the benefits of our buy. Who knows where lightening will strike next?
The thunder bolt had struck my friend between the eyes.