Twenty Seven

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I saw him everyday you understand, this wasn’t a stranger. We developed a routine. I never intended this to happen, I was foolish. I pretended that we had some kind of casual friendship and I forgot who I was dealing with, I forgot that I went home to my house and my friends and family every night while he went, somewhere. I don’t even know where, or what he did or who he was. I was wrapped up in myself.

This is not a beginning.

The first time I saw him he was invisible. I had started a new job, settled into a new routine. Every morning I would arrive, Starbucks in hand, to the large porch leading into our offices. I would pass him, wrapped in sleeping bag, every morning but I didn’t see him for the first few days, he started to appear gradually to me. We didn’t ‘meet’ per-se, one morning a saw him, another morning I caught his eye as I passed and was forced to acknowledge him.

‘Yes, I see you, you are a person too.’

It was so gradual, moving from seeing, to acknowledging, to speaking.

‘Good morning’

Most mornings at least, unless I was hurrying or annoyed or hung-over, then he was invisible again and his ‘Good Morning’ was ignored, his eyes avoided,

‘Not today, you are not a person today.’

The first time I brought him a coffee he blinked once in surprise and then,

‘Thank you’

I don’t know why that day, weeks of greeting and ignoring and I have no idea why it had never occurred to me to bring coffee. Such a natural thing in the morning. For weeks this was the new routine, two Starbucks.

‘Good Morning’
‘Thank you’

Then he changed it, just a little and I was the one surprised.

‘What’s your name?’

And I handed him his coffee and I smiled at the enquiry, and I told him. New routine,

‘Good Morning’
‘Thanks’

Thanks, more informal, friendly like. This was a new routine, nearly a week when one day, mortified I realised I had never returned the question.

‘Yes, you are a person, yes you have a name’

‘Good Morning’
‘Thanks’
‘Emm..so, I’m sorry but I’ve forgotten your name’

Coward, but it was allowed to pass.

‘Michael’

And suddenly, conversation. You are a person, you have a name and now we can speak to each other.

‘I’ll remember Michael, that’s my brothers name’

And he smiled a real smile and I smiled back and went to work.
New routine again.

‘Good morning Michael’
‘Good morning’

And conversation, and a smile. Two minutes, five minutes. Chatting like friends, but we were not friends, it was too unequal. I never questioned that he was always there, all weathers. I knew that it was his spot to sleep. I knew that he had nowhere to go.

‘Good morning Michael’
‘Good morning’

And then he wasn’t there. Six months of greeting, speaking and he knew me. He knew my job, how many siblings, where I was going on my holidays.

I didn’t know his surname.

It was Boyle, he was twenty seven and an addict, sleeping on the streets and pumping heroin into his veins to dull whatever it was that had brought him there in the first place.

This is not an ending, there was never a beginning.

• Write a brief summary statement here.

  by JamesLeer

  Posted Oct 12, 2008
  +2
  The ending has great effect but could even better if you eased the reader in with a bit more information so we have a connection with "Boyle".
  
  Gets a little repetitive towards the middle, again I'd say build more of a relationship between you characters so that when we rea... (read more)

• enomix
  Mar 1, 2009
  I really liked the flow and style (bit repetetive, my opinion I mean), but the ending (as everyone also says) was quite likea slap in the face. Maybe you should have said it was in dublin, or expalined about the obituary thing. Otherwise, it was a good idea and I think its a really good poem. Wait a sec. I should have (maybe) guessed it was in dublin because you're called Irishgirl. Oh well.
  
  Good ideas here!
• Irishgirl
  Oct 14, 2008
  Thanks for reviews on this all, I guess that the idea of him being an addict was so clear in my head that I didn't communicate it fully, but then the main reason someone in Dublin (which is where this is set in my mind because it is where I live) would be on the streets is an addiction problem.
  Also, I didn't make clear the ending, to me the only way she would learn his surname was via an obituary, so he is supposed to have died. I think this needs a rewrite to make these things clearer!
• EmmyS
  Oct 8, 2008
  I'm sorry! I just spent 15 minutes writing a review, and I must have hit a button or something, because it disappeared and I accidentally posted the template instead. Oops.
  What I wanted to say was that I enjoyed this, and I actually really liked the short sentences throughout the piece. They were like veritable speedhumps (in a good way!), causing you to stop and consider it. In particular, the repetition of the phrase "This is not a beginning" was fantastic; so simple but also brutal--I was floored.
  I agree with SimeyCook about the ending, though. I thought your character development was really nice and subtle, but the whole Michael think came as such as shock that I went back and re-read it, thinking I'd missed something...it was just a little jarring. But overall, I like your tone, and I'd like to read more. Sorry again about the review!

• Date Added
• Oct 8, 2008 at 6:11 AM
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• Literature
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• People
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