An Exaggerated Happenstance

The Old Man and the Alley
by Mike (who once dressed up as Ernest Hemingway, so it's all good)

On a long and lonesome road, lit sporadically with the escaped fluorescent light of bars and restaurants and cell phone shops, an old man trudged. Half toppled over in age and pain he stepped one step at a time, returning to somewhere, somewhere only the wind could know. On the corner, the hanging lamp swung and flashed as the inner bulb received its life giving energy. Rhythmically it swayed, back and forth, back and forth, back and - the light blinks out. The old man looked up longingly at the fickle lamp, twisting and undulating as an unpredictable metronome would.

Across the alley, a young man approached uncaring. Completely caught up in contemplation of the world's great questions or unpredictable lyrical cadence of Frank Zappa, working its way into his brain. He crossed the street, heading directly toward the old man whose focus remained on the lively black metal above his head.

Neither noticing the others existence. Both not knowing the ensuing event that would change both of their lives forever.

Rapidly, the young man closed the distance.

Standing meditatively, the old man waiting, for what, he did not know.

Another step closer. And another. And another. And another until the two were merely feet apart. At that moment they made eye contact, their worlds colliding. The confrontation lasted mere nanoseconds but the imprint left on the young man will last an eternity.

In the last possible moment, the young man sidestepped to avoid a physical collision. The old man turned and watched as the young man walked passed him, not even acknowledging or recognizing the old man. He reached out. The still-swaying light flickered and ignited.

In surprise at the sudden illumination as well as the shockingly powerful grip of the old man, the kid turned with startling quickness to face the old man. In a matter of instinct and self-preservation, he turned and knocked the old man's hand away. It was at this moment that they both saw the errors in their actions. The young man was not who the old man thought he was and the old man was not the threat the young man imagined.

Standing both eerily confused, they both apologized. The old man in his black restaurant apron, stained with the evening's menu stared for a moment in surprise, unblinking, while the young man carrying a white bundle of martial arts gear stood confused and lost.

The light above winked out, and in the darkness the black spaces that were once occupied by human beings were now indistinguishable from the rest of the inanimate ally. They both turned and trudged on.