Walking out of time (Part I)

There were many people on Burton Street, but William was not one of them. Instead, he was in the street before, Walnut Road, slinking in and out of shops. He was trying to clear his head and work out how he was going to return the money he didn’t have, that he’d borrowed from a near stranger, almost a month ago. The latter would be waiting for him and his money in Burton Street in half an hour. Mind you, it was no small sum and the moneylender had a big heart; however, it was hard for William to deny he wanted to clear his conscience and fulfil his duty. He’d like to think he had never failed anyone’s expectations before, at least any outsider’s, and he would like to keep it that way. The moneylender was a friend of a friend, and they briefly met at a party. William had asked one of his older friends for a bit of money to see him through to the end of the month. However, his friend had recently purchased a car, and profusely apologised that he could not help William. His friend then asked his friend to help William out instead. And what could William do? Could he deny the money he so desperately needed to afford his shelter? Out of helplessness he had to accept. If it were a different time, a different place, and a different situation, he would never have taken the money.

But circumstances were dire.

What had happened was simple: the stranger had lent William the money, William accepted it, spent it, but now has no way to recover the money. What with his student loans, university fees, rent, his groceries, and textbooks, that large sum of money did not appear large at all. Even though William was a student, he had not the qualities of one- one who knew how to spend their money carefully now that they were fully independent.

William gazed at the display of meticulously decorated porcelain decoration pieces on a stand, in a home décor shop he found himself skulking in. The colours were appealing, the texture was smooth, and the overall design was exquisite. He’d love to have one of them in his apartment. Wait, why was he in this shop anyway? What was he doing? He barely made ends meet, has found himself in yet another debt with yet another moneylender, and now he was planning to never get out of debt by attempting to purchase one of the fancy décor pieces. Their price was probably more than what he’d get when he eventually sold himself to pay off his debt. He sighed and closed his eyes. His temples were throbbing. He had better practise his negotiating and pleading skills and pray the moneylender wouldn’t bury him, William thought. He opened his eyes and made direct eye contact with one of the salespeople in the shop. The salesperson was probably wondering whether William was going to bump into the display stand accidentally (or not) and break the invaluable items with his eyes closed like that, or, steal one porcelain piece and make a run for it.

Well, William mused, let’s hope the person takes me for an awed regular rather than a desperate student trying to do anything to keep himself off the street, and he hurriedly left the shop. William did not want the person to think he was doing anything wrong- which he wasn’t, even if William himself made it look that way unwittingly. And if the salesperson believed that incriminated William even more, he didn’t call him back.