He sat in the same spot every single day around this time. Silver had noticed him many times before, the homeless man with dark skin and powdery white ash covering the sides of his face. It used to be that on Silver’s walk to work, he’d look down on the homeless man in disgust, an air of superiority running over him.
“How could he sit there all day, every day, doing nothing? What a boring repetitious waste of life. How hard was it to get a job?” He thought.
Admittedly Silver walked a little taller, his head a little higher, when he passed this man he knew nothing of, but assumed so much about. It was easy to feel like a better person in his nice suit and shiny black shoes, as he walked past somebody in rags.
Morning after morning Silver would pass this man, his feelings of disgust soon turned to pity, and then to Silver’s surprise, his thoughts on the homeless man turned to that of curiosity. “How could he sit there all day, every day, what is he doing?” He thought.
Days passed such as this, in the exact same way. Silver did the same routine every day. He woke up, he brushed his teeth, he put on his nice suit and he walked to work. He walked on the same street, got breakfast at the same cafe, and made his way to the same destination. Every single day.
He woke up the same, ate the same, slept the same and continued to pass the same homeless man. The homeless man that he began to envy, ironically. “How could he sit there all day, every day, and look so content?” He thought.
24 hours after 24 hours, the days began to pile up. Until one day, like every other day, there was a change in Silver.
The day started simple enough; his eyes opened like they have been for the past 47 years, he put two feet on the cold wood floor, he walked across the hallway to the bathroom, he picked up his orange toothbrush and he began brushing his teeth. Repetition, like clockwork, his daily routine, he could do it with his eyes closed. Left to right, up and down, tiny circles like the dentist recommends, he kept brushing. It wasn’t until he looked in the bathroom mirror that time stopped, and this ordinary day began with a change. It was the same mirror he looked in to every single morning, but on this specific morning, he saw something else, he saw age.
He stopped brushing, spit in to the sink, put two hands on the counter and peered in to the reflected eyes. Sadness hit him, hopelessness hit him, and above all, regret hit him. He took his index finger and gently pulled down the bag under his right eye, let go and repeated the action with the left eye. He slid his finger downward, over the loosening skin of his cheeks, then put his hand back on the counter, shut his eyes and bowed his head. After a few moments, he looked again and sighed. His simple every day routine that he could do without thinking, just got difficult.
He continued to gaze for a moment, until he saw the short and long hands of his watch on the 6. Work starts in 30 minutes. He debated for a moment on whether he cared or not about being late, then splashed some water over his face like he normally did, stuck one arm through his suit sleeve, and then did the same with the other. Put one foot in his suit pants, and then the other. Smoothed out his tie, bow tied his shoes and he was out the door. He was walking like he normally did, only instead, today he passed up his breakfast café, and he walked in to the small convenience store next door. He picked up a six pack of beer, paid his amount, and was back on his daily track, only on this meaningful day of days, instead of passing by the homeless man, he walked his shiny shoes up to him, touched his back against the building and slid down the wall until he was comfortably sitting next to the man. He took two cans of beer out of the box, and held one out. The homeless man looked at him, and graciously took the can from Silver. They cracked open their beers and silently sat drinking together. The moment was perfect.
Several moments passed by before the homeless man looked at Silver, and asked him his name.
“I’m Sylvester Scagnetti, but everyone just calls me Silver.”
“Oh,” the homeless man replied. “Can I ask you somethin’?”
“Sure,” Silver said, curiously.
“Well, I watched you walk by me for the pass year, and ya know, at first I aint like you, then I was kinda curious, ya know? Now I jus wanna ask you, whats it like doin’ the same thing everyday?”
Just felt like writing. For some reason I have a shitload of different stories involving some guy named Sylvester Scagnetti, nicknamed Silver. This is one where he meets a homeless man, and grows to envy him, or something.
Created: Mar 01, 2010Document Media