I stood in the front garden unable to move, watching my whole life go up in flames in front of me. How has this happened? One minute I was enjoying a Christmas night out in town with friends and the next I’m stood here, to what I can only describe as pure horror.
Just then I noticed an officer approaching looking very official. I suspect he was the person in charge of ensuring the firemen did their job safely. I snapped myself out of my daze so that I could listen to what he was about to say.
“Miss West, I’m Senior Officer Davies. The police have pointed me in your direction as I was advised you are the home owner of the property. The fire has been put out but will continue to smoke for several hours. Tomorrow a team of specialist will attend to asses how the fire started. Are you able to stay with family or friends in the mean time?”
How can he ask me if I’m able to stay with a family or friends? With what exactly, I only have the clothes on my back and my purse, which was useless this time of year. I’d just done four twelve hotline shifts back to back to get extra money to pay for presents for family and friends as well as to help me get by.
I lifted my hand to my head,
“I’ll speak to a friend to see if they can put me up for a few days”.
The realisation of what was happening hit me, spilling tears from my eyes in front of Officer Davis. I know it’s just bricks and mortar, but it had possessions that were invaluable to me. The officer looked uncomfortable, so I quickly wiped my face.
“Thank you officer I appreciate the update, please would you excuse me, I need a change of scenery and time alone to think about what happens next”.
I walked across to my car, the only material object I had left, got inside and drove away. I couldn’t look back, I was too upset, as there was no going back home again.
It was a sunny Sunday morning in Perranporth, as Arthur steadily sat down in a metal chair outside his favourite cafe. He looked forward to days like this, enjoying a pot of tea and watching the world go buy, something he’d always enjoyed doing with his wife. Their time at the cafe used to be centred around social events or trips his wife planned for the two of them to enjoy. Nowadays his time at the cafe was spent sipping tea and watching the people in the high street go about their business.
Today Arthur felt lonely. As he sat and waited for his pot of tea he wished it was five years earlier and that his wife was sitting across from him. Just then a young girl, who he’d not seen before approached his table “Here ya go, tea for one”. “You, here you go…is it too much to ask you young people to actually pronounce your words correctly!?”. In disgust Arthur moved his pot towards him as the young girl hurried back inside hurt from the older man’s sharp tongue.
As the morning went on Arthur watched the young girl and realised the effects his words had had on her demeanour - she was now withdrawn and no longer smiled, as she had done when he first sat down earlier that morning. As she continued to do her job a small black notebook fell out of her back pocket and onto the floor near Arthur. As she carried on with her duties Arthur picked up the notebook and was about to shout her back but she’d disappeared into the cafe. Holding the notebook in his hand his desire to read what was inside grew and without hesitation he opened the book. Once inside he found a series of letters addressed to “Mum”. Arthur skimmed a few of the pages and grew sad, the young clearly missed her mum as each letter ended with “Wish you were here with me mum, missing you so much”. Arthur wondered where the young girls mum could be and then felt guilty for snapping at her this morning. He may have been grumpy for missing his wife, but he got to spend over 50 years with someone he loved dearly.
Just then the young girl appeared “Excuse me Sir, please may I have my notebook back” “Errr yes dear, I’m sorry I did intend on returning this back to you immediately but you’d slipped into the back. I apologise for reading your notebook but the letters to your mother are beautiful…do you write to her often or only in your book?”. The girl hesitated, reluctant to share anything with the older man. “Only in my notebook”, “Do you not post them to her dear?”, “No, my mum passed away a little over eighteen months ago from Cancer. She was an English teacher and writing letters was something we shared together from being very young”.
Arthur grew extremely sad, he realised he’d let his bad mood affect another person, who was already dealing with their own problems. “I’m sorry”, “It’s okay, I have my good days and bad days, unfortunately today is a bad day. When you corrected my speech earlier it upset me, I’ve always taken pride in how I talk, I adored English with mum and hoped that one day I’d be an English teacher just like her…but since she’s passed the only thing I was to do is write letters to my mum”. Tears swelled in her eyes but she did a good job trying to get them fade away, as she gently tipped her head back just a little.
“My dear, I’m sorry if my words hurt you this morning, I didn’t not mean to upset you. I lost my wife five years ago and was simply missing her today. Strangely enough my wife love to write too but her craft lay in writing fiction novels.” Just then Arthur looked at his watched and realised he’d spent more time at the cafe than planned. “Well I better be going but if your here tomorrow I’d love to tell you more about my wife…and perhaps I can share with you some of her writing, given the beautiful penmanship you clearly have”. Just then the young girl smiled, “That would be be nice….my names Hayley”. “Nice to meet you Hanley, I’m Arthur…remember to order tea for two tomorrow” and with smiles Arthur’s headed home.
It’s interesting being death, to know that I have power, as I sit and watch you day in and day out to decide on your final hour.
For the living are so naive, so selfish and so absorb! The generation that I sit here and watch, All do love to be adored.
If only you knew I was here, just waiting in the wings, your perspective on life would be so very different and you’d cherish so many things.
There are very few people these days, who rarely make my job hard. When I cast my mind back, over hundred years past, They cared, loved god and worked hard.
Oh life teaches the living nothing, Yet you’d think they’d feel lucky and blessed? But everyday they run the risk Of failing all my tests!
So what is the point of this poem, What do I want to say, Quite simply be kind, keep an open mind and cherish each and everyday day.
