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Dedicated to all the homeless, sometimes those with least are the most generous

The Widower's Mite. ( A Haibun )

Water_witch-2by Abigael08 Nov 2013

In full throttle a child screamed from behind closed doors, competing with the howling gale that raged outside the casualty waiting area The room overflowed with a liquorish allsorts of people resigned to a long wait. A mother quietly murmur's as she feeds her bundled baby, on the too large seat beside her a little boy idly swings his legs and craves her attention. The large clock on the wall ticks on .... we can only wait.
Suddenly the swing doors burst open, a man with a pronounced limp and dressed in rags fell into the body-fuelled warmth of the packed room, he was as as wet as if he had just walked through a waterfall. There were no vacant seats, shuffling around he found a space, finally he slumped down on the floor shivering and teeth chattering. He proceeded to bang his head in rhythm against the wall as if that hurt might dull another pain. Some folk stared and others ignored him, hospital staff whizzed by,avoiding our eyes. intent on other things.
Leaving my seat to offer him a drink I put a coin in the vending machine, he chose a drink of hot sweet tea, cupping it in blue hands. I begged the receptionist for a blanket and he removed the wet coat and cocooned himself, curling into its warmth, still shivering. Another coin went into the machine for my cappuccino and I sat down, Tick tock tick tock....
A younger man paced the floor anxious about a loved one, his hand delved into his trouser pocket and pulled out a cigarette packet. He cursed, only now realising it was empty, and threw the packet into a bin. I was unable to offer him a cigarette as I don't smoke.. silence reigned ...Tick tock tick
The bundle of rags rose from his seat on the floor, dropping his blanket. He had stopped shivering but still limped badly ; he faced the young man who was pacing the floor, then taking a packet from his pocket, he gruffly said Here y'are mate, as he offered the fellow his last cigarette.

storm moon -
tracing the terminator
with my finger