December Cold.
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Short Story by: Unorthodox Rebel
It was a cold morning. Rain fell ever so lightly outside as I sipped my cup hot chocolate. The hot, sweet aroma touched my lips like a drink from the heavens itself. I wrapped the blanket around me tighter as a slight breeze blew in from the balcony. It was a Sunday, a day off from work and I was enjoying it the best I could. Mornings seldom got any bett….
“Rohan beta, come down for a bit, would you?” came the shout of some sort of devil from below. It was my neighbour.
I sat there frozen, unable to move, or maybe I just didn’t want to. All kind of wrong thoughts flew straight through my mind. I didn’t reply.
“Are you there or not?” she rang back. I wouldn’t have been, but if she told my mother about it, I was going to get a severe scolding. After everything, I had to get up.
I put my cup down and took the blanket off. A chill went right through my body. I had to cover myself with the blanket again to stop shivering. Anyhow, I managed to walk down and get to her gate.
There she was, wrapped in a blanket herself, drinking tea.
“Would you go and get some grocery, my dearie?” I would have run away that very moment, but she was old and I didn’t want her to feel bad.
“Where’s your son?” I inquired with as much care as I could.
“He’s out for work somewhere”. At that moment I realised that he must be out drunk with his friends, partying somewhere. I ceased to think of any further questions plaguing my mind.
After taking the money from her, I started the walk towards the long, dreadful journey that lay ahead of me. Even with the blanket on, it was freezing.
“I wonder why isn’t it snowing already”. I thought to myself.
The way was empty, void of anyone whatsoever. At first this struck me awkwardly, but then I realised that I must be the only one dumb enough to come out in this cold to buy groceries. I wonder why I hadn’t asked her why she needed some grocery so urgently in the morning.
I must have reached the store in about a year or so. The shopkeeper was inside, and I had to shout at the top of my lungs to get him out. At that moment, shouting meant whimpering like child as best I could. Thankfully, he listened. He came out rubbing his hands together wearing a monkey cap, evidently feeling the cold.
“Sire, what do you want? It’s so cold.”
I read him the list and he slowly gave me the things I wanted albeit with some unhappiness. After paying him, I resumed my journey back to my ultimate goal, my bedroom.
On the way back, I was startled to see a man out in the cold. He was the sole soul I had seen on my way, and he was shivering uncontrollably. He sat on the footpath, hands and legs cramped and he was breathing heavily. He must have been around 60 and was trying to sell, or rather do something, anything, with his newspapers and magazines.
Curious, I approached the man.
‘Haan bhaiya, what are you doing here in this cold? The road’s empty, you can’t be selling anything.”
“Sir, in fact I am. In the life of someone like me this is what I have to do to survive.” he could barely get the words out of his mouth.
I felt bad for him. Instinctively, I brought 3 newspapers and 2 magazines. He was utterly thankful. Just as I was starting back, I remembered.
“Here, have this blanket.” I said as I handed it over to him.
“What?” he said, startled.
“Yes, you can have it.” I replied with a smile on my face.
He took it and immediately hugged me. I felt awkward to say the least, but I hugged him back and then started on my journey back. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel cold at all. I still wonder where that could have gone.
I reached back and handed her over the goods and went back up. The hot chocolate had gone cold. I sat back on my bed, reminiscing on my encounter with the old man.
The morning had been quite warm after all.
© Copyright 2019 Unorthodox Rebel. All rights reserved.
Comments
Proving once again, "It is more blessed to give than receive." Nice unexpected twist. Your writing appears error free but my expectations were lowered with "It was a cold morning." because I took it (and still do) as a variation on the cliched opening "It was a dark and stormy night.". Perhaps revising the open paragraph to bring the conflict closer to the opening in order to "hook" the reader's attention. Overall, you have good storytelling abilities. Good work.
I could really feel your energy and how you just brought your character to live. If you all had some time I new so I just need to know a few opinion
Hey Ben, thanks for the feedback! I'll definitely look into it. Also, The Hope, thanks to you too.
Also a question. Did you feel that I somehow need to expand the encounter with the old man or is it enough? I was thinking it to rather be a bit short, so I asked.
Nice story. Take out 'it was a cold morning' You don't need it. In answer to the above question, the story is the right length unless you are going to weigh it down with unnecessary description, but I don't feel it is that type of story. Keep it simple,here I say
Regards
Chris
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