The Consequence Was...
Entry by: daddy
1st January 2016
Consequences (A normal day..)
The fierce wind picked up again. Another storm was on its way.
It was years ago when he had been this far from his house on a trip in to the past.
These days it was difficult to walk and he had to force himself step by step from the bed to the dining table where the house service had placed his breakfast of boiled eggs and black coffee. He took a bit of time to settle in the chair and thanked God that Parkinson’s had not crept in to the long list of ailments that troubled his frail body. He glanced out of the window at the bleak sky , let the storm rage outside he had nowhere to go today or for that matter next few days. Was it Mary Ann? or Mariam? who used to say storms uplift moods once they pass by. He looked at the eggs he must eat them even though he was never hungry these days and the drink the coffee to wash down the pills from the dosing box. He remembered the last time he was in the hospital he had eaten the toast and he had choked the nurse had come and scolded him never to eat without drinking something. She had sat for some time, God bless her kind, she was in her 60’s , from Turkey or was it Budapest?
The wind had started howling but his mind drifted to the autobahn in West Germany where he had been frightened with cars zipping at 250 kmph, the noise all round one heard on cracking the window open even a wee bit. Klara had to shout at him to shut the window as she couldn’t hear the traffic radio. Klara had settled in Okinawa, she must be close to 90! She was his only sister and the only one who cared or remembered him these days. He could hardly understand what she said or mumbled but she called him once in a while to talk about their father and his small house on the outskirts of Copenhagen.
He was used to the waves splashing his feet as he walked the rocky beaches with memories like pebbles popping up now and then as the waves played with them. Rockland was a close confidante with whom he had shared all his business secrets and God bless him, he had never let him down until his dying day. After the demise of Rockland, he had wound up his business and retired for good. He remembered how Brian tried to convince him to continue the Sticker business himself rather than selling it to him; he had even refused to renovate the shop for a few months. Brian was his younger stepbrother but more than a real one and looked after him in his old age.
They should shut the damn TV! Spewing out nothing but nonsense! Some Caliphate carrying out executions , countries bombing each other, why can’t they have Liz Taylor reading the news? And this cacophony they call music…Summerwine.. so soothing…
Grace shook the old man and reminded him to finish his eggs as she had already finished. Grace was a fine woman now, he had seen her years ago as a toddler, it was another storm another day and had left him drenched in sweet memories. He had found Grace crouching under a bench as the storm winds had raged the coast, she was frightened to the core but would not come to him since her mother had warned her not to talk to strangers, he had sat down on the bench to wait till her mother came back. He was in Skagen, Denmark that summer, he kept sitting on the bench but gave Grace his jacket and raincoat. A short hailstorm later he saw a frightened woman shouting for Grace, he hailed her and showed where Grace was hiding and both burst out laughing, he in his late 60’s and she in her early forties. The generation gap was carried away by the pouring rain as they rushed to the nearby café to warm themselves. He had to be hospitalized by evening that day as he had caught severe cold. Both Grace and Krista, the mother of Grace, visited him daily for a week till he was fit enough to move back to the hotel. The friendship grew under the stormy weather and flourished in to a lifelong bond, enduring distances, and turbulences in their lives. Krista lived in Munich and he in Innsbruck.
Last year Krista had succumbed to a massive heart attack and therefore he thought of visiting Skagen with Grace to immortalize their association.
He was thankful to memories, distorted, incomplete, erroneous, or otherwise, it was all an old foggy like him had to pass the time from one doze to the other.
He told Grace that he will go for the New year Eve dance that night, provided she could find a comfortable corner for him to sit as she danced her way to the dawn of 2016., and he would drown in the storm of memories as they would come pouring down.
The fierce wind picked up again. Another storm was on its way.
It was years ago when he had been this far from his house on a trip in to the past.
These days it was difficult to walk and he had to force himself step by step from the bed to the dining table where the house service had placed his breakfast of boiled eggs and black coffee. He took a bit of time to settle in the chair and thanked God that Parkinson’s had not crept in to the long list of ailments that troubled his frail body. He glanced out of the window at the bleak sky , let the storm rage outside he had nowhere to go today or for that matter next few days. Was it Mary Ann? or Mariam? who used to say storms uplift moods once they pass by. He looked at the eggs he must eat them even though he was never hungry these days and the drink the coffee to wash down the pills from the dosing box. He remembered the last time he was in the hospital he had eaten the toast and he had choked the nurse had come and scolded him never to eat without drinking something. She had sat for some time, God bless her kind, she was in her 60’s , from Turkey or was it Budapest?
The wind had started howling but his mind drifted to the autobahn in West Germany where he had been frightened with cars zipping at 250 kmph, the noise all round one heard on cracking the window open even a wee bit. Klara had to shout at him to shut the window as she couldn’t hear the traffic radio. Klara had settled in Okinawa, she must be close to 90! She was his only sister and the only one who cared or remembered him these days. He could hardly understand what she said or mumbled but she called him once in a while to talk about their father and his small house on the outskirts of Copenhagen.
He was used to the waves splashing his feet as he walked the rocky beaches with memories like pebbles popping up now and then as the waves played with them. Rockland was a close confidante with whom he had shared all his business secrets and God bless him, he had never let him down until his dying day. After the demise of Rockland, he had wound up his business and retired for good. He remembered how Brian tried to convince him to continue the Sticker business himself rather than selling it to him; he had even refused to renovate the shop for a few months. Brian was his younger stepbrother but more than a real one and looked after him in his old age.
They should shut the damn TV! Spewing out nothing but nonsense! Some Caliphate carrying out executions , countries bombing each other, why can’t they have Liz Taylor reading the news? And this cacophony they call music…Summerwine.. so soothing…
Grace shook the old man and reminded him to finish his eggs as she had already finished. Grace was a fine woman now, he had seen her years ago as a toddler, it was another storm another day and had left him drenched in sweet memories. He had found Grace crouching under a bench as the storm winds had raged the coast, she was frightened to the core but would not come to him since her mother had warned her not to talk to strangers, he had sat down on the bench to wait till her mother came back. He was in Skagen, Denmark that summer, he kept sitting on the bench but gave Grace his jacket and raincoat. A short hailstorm later he saw a frightened woman shouting for Grace, he hailed her and showed where Grace was hiding and both burst out laughing, he in his late 60’s and she in her early forties. The generation gap was carried away by the pouring rain as they rushed to the nearby café to warm themselves. He had to be hospitalized by evening that day as he had caught severe cold. Both Grace and Krista, the mother of Grace, visited him daily for a week till he was fit enough to move back to the hotel. The friendship grew under the stormy weather and flourished in to a lifelong bond, enduring distances, and turbulences in their lives. Krista lived in Munich and he in Innsbruck.
Last year Krista had succumbed to a massive heart attack and therefore he thought of visiting Skagen with Grace to immortalize their association.
He was thankful to memories, distorted, incomplete, erroneous, or otherwise, it was all an old foggy like him had to pass the time from one doze to the other.
He told Grace that he will go for the New year Eve dance that night, provided she could find a comfortable corner for him to sit as she danced her way to the dawn of 2016., and he would drown in the storm of memories as they would come pouring down.
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