Story by k
Him
Posted on by K.
In the mids of the morning rush as I board the 8 o’clock tram I could not believe my cold watery eyes, it was him. Radiant and handsome as ever; the ten years have been kind on him. As I unwrap my mohair scarf, take off my Burberry beret I stand paralysed and mesmerised if my eyes were not playing tricks on me. Is this possible, could it be, is this really him? I shiver not from the freezing below zero temperature outside but from the firecrackers adrenaline rushing through my body. There was a comfortable silence between us while our eyes did all the talking. Locked in a moment, we were the only commuters travelling back in time to when it was only me and him. Was this a coincidence or fate messing with my mind once again. Distracted for a split second from the sudden shove of a little old lady with a shopping trolley; I turn and he was gone. In panic I push through the commenters searching high and low like a mother looking for her list child but, no sight of him! Why did he come back, why now after 10 very long and lonely years? Oh how I have missed him. I sit in a spare seat next to the little old lady with the shopping trolley who whispers in my ear, “he’s back, he’s not a hallucination, it really was him”! I sit and stare in sublime sadness and wonder why, why now and, how did this homeless looking little old lady know? Was our intense encounter that obvious, was she following me or does she know him? In awe and confusion I get off at the next stop. It must have been one of the longest most unproductive days at work. Even crucial printing deadlines for top notch clients couldn’t motivate me. For the entire time my mind was rewinding, stopping and fast forwarding the early morning tram encounter. I decided to take an Uber home just in case and, I needed to be calm and collected with Alistair. Who is Alistair, you’re wondering. He’s my husband of five years. I met Alistair during my most difficult times when living was a struggle, and the whole world dark and gloomy. I greet goodbye Mr Uber Driver, check the mailbox, take a deep breath and slot the key in the front door.