The Lost Macaque

Kindness is never inconsequential.

🪨

An unfamiliar presence stirred the quiet street at dawn, wandering, hesitant, in the December cold .

Turned away by those it trusted - because it was tiny.

A lone primate in unfamiliar territory.

Residents in the surrounding apartment block stuck their curious heads out of windows.

Whispering and labelling the unwanted visitor.

🪨

The little macaque reached for small comforts - the inconsequential things.

Grabbing fruit that hung from tree branches.

Startling a dog.

Grabbing a child's sandwich.

Under everyone's watchful eyes -

And misdirected gestures.

Then, a little boy's hand reached out.

With bread - a slice of hope.

A piece of trust--

Wanted for too long.

🪨

"Here," the young boy's voice -

Naive and innocent.

The macaque paused--

Then slowly fingered the bread.

The boy's hand - all the time warm, outstretched.

The residents still peeked out of windows.

Watching - with no offering.

The macaque grabbed the bread, squeaking in thanks.

🪨

The macaque stayed near the boy, fingering the bread in his hand.

The boy eyed it with patient, unfettered calm.

Hand outstretched, waiting.

The observers at the window watched, hands withdrawn.

The macaque savoured the bread - a rare piece of welcome.

🪨

From that day, the macaque trailed the branches in the trees lining the street.

Always near the boy.

Who always had a piece of bread in an outstretched hand.

The observers watched --

Their gazes were soft, with curious warmth.

There was a piece of bread -

At least one.

🪨

For Mikeydred's December Prompt: