Peace

[Sammy Boy]

The day started hot and humid, and by late afternoon it was even more so. The dark, moody clouds rolled across the heavens.

He pulled the car into the undercover spot. Old and dented, with its paint dried, chipped, and cracking, it nonetheless ran mostly without any problems. Being an old model, it had no air conditioning, but he was fine with that. Since a boy, he had always weathered the less than comfortable climate out here.

Most of the folks had moved to bigger towns or even the cities, and though there was no family left for him here, he decided to stay. The sense of isolation amongst the hot days and cool nights gave him a sense of peace that for him, was impossible to part with and more desirable than human company.

As he got out of the car a gust of wind picked up. Soon, there would be rain. Sure enough, it started pouring almost as soon as he stepped onto the porch. The screen door's hinges were in need of adjustment, it wouldn't close properly. But the door was that way for quite some time already, and he had no intention of fixing it now.

Stepping through the doorway, his eyes surveyed the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, and the thin film of dust coating some of the kitchen's surfaces. For some unknown reason, the dust would gather in his home frequently, with the kitchen tops getting the dustiest the quickest.

He sat down on an old leather chair, its legs slightly uneven, causing him to sway gently. He felt so tired after a day's work, especially now that it was summer and the hot sun was always high up in the sky, its heat unforgivingly beating down upon him when he worked.

Though it was a habit for him now, at times he still felt the urge to take a quick shower and go to bed. But he disciplined himself and got the book out. Its leather cover worn and slightly torn, the book was given to him by an old man some years ago. The man's car had broken down a short distance from his home, and being the weekend, he intended to fix a couple of cracked window sills when saw the old man and the car.

Together they patched things up as best they good, enough to allow the old man to be on his way. The old man said he didn't have any money to pay for his help, and he didn't mind, but got out a book and handed it to him. At first he simply left it at the table, since he was never into reading. But eventually curiosity got the better of him, and he started reading a little of it each day. The first time he opened the book, he almost ripped some of the pages by accident, as they were so thin. But they seemed surprisingly resilient, and by now he learned to be careful in his handling of the book.

When he had finished the day's reading, he looked up and realised the sun had not set. He stretched and felt content. Then it dawned on him that it was not the isolation which gave him peace, but the strength he drew from the words of the author.

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Note: I don't have a plot in mind, I just decided to write something. I'm not even sure if there is a "theme" in this piece. But I was listening to Pete Murray's "Opportunity" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbCuvsFMSyE) when I was writing this, so it must have inspired me somehow.(?)