The First Signs of Hope

He twirled around his laptop, then flipped it open. Taking a seat at his accustomed position, the fading golden shimmer reflected off of the white table top. He noticed the colour for a few seconds, and found a fleeting moment of comfort before coming back to his screen.

The clean desktop was waiting, the evening was waiting. He took a few large gulps from the wide, heavy tumbler and slammed it down onto the table. The smell burned his nostrils and his insides, his mind melted away and the shivers in his back returned.

He tuned into the the million voices around the world, all converging in this one place. The site was lit up with the lonely, the desperate and the proud.

Conversation after conversation, fail, after fail. Send message, fail. Send message. No response. Re-compose, send message. Hit. One traveller on the other side stopped for minute to listen to the desperate, waiting to be rescued, but decided to ignore the curiosity and block out the cries.

The music became louder, and the drink became stronger, each one imbued with more pain and suffering than the last. At the dying light, he lamented at the thought of the life lost. What had he become, where was this night going? When did this end?

He slammed down the lid down in anger. A fresh bottle, replaced the last and the cigarette ash spread itself across the table. His eyes were heavy, but the pain was numbed and returning in greater measure.

Drink more and it will dissipate forever. There is a cure. This is the cure. This was not him. He was better than this. He could be better, in a different world, in a different life. If only they gave him a chance. One by one the channels of communications, the blinking lights stopped and the noise of the crowd died down. It was quiet again.

He hardly had time to draw the curtains, and the early morning light began to break into and across room. He looked back to the sitting area part of the room, it had been left undisturbed all night. His head was heavy, and his sofa beckoned.

The light hit the top of the tree outside the sash window. It was catching fire. The fire moved down to illuminate it’s sublime form. Holding up his head, he peered through his bleary eyes at it’s resplendence. The deepest green against white and golden blossom. He felt like something in him had changed. The fear, anger and darkness had gone.

He started up the computer again.

The splendour, the majesty and the love he felt emanating from this natural wonder would always be there whenever he glanced out his window.

Years later he would reflect. There were signs and messages of light throughout his life but that night “It felt like, it felt like…”, his wife finished his sentence for him. ‘Hope’.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s