The old man

He would sit on the old rickety porch every morning whenever a bit of sun peeked from the overcast sky. Most other days he just sat by the window and stared out at the almost invisible roadway, rendered unrecognizable by the sheer volume of snow which just kept falling. The stark bare trees seemed to mimic his life, mocking his solitude.

He knew that the kind lady who came to help him would bring someone to clear a pathway for him to carefully walk if he was of a mood to do so. He missed his strolls with Betty, yet he would go to her soon enough.

Silas raised his head as the echoes of children's voices sounded from between the colorful blooms of the trees and flowers, the sun shining brightly upon the frolicking kids, dog, buzzing bees and butterflies, they shouted for him, running forward to hold his hands, pulling him towards play and fun.

The wind suddenly picked up, swirling cold wisps of snow across his face. The sunny image faded into silence, only the wind and snow remained.

The one who had come home from the war was resting not far away under the snow, his spirit and will had been as broken as his body. It had been a long time since the other two came to visit.

Silas perked up as a car approached. Family at last he hoped, he prayed.

It was Marianna, his nurse.

Maybe next time it will be the family!