One For The Road

image borrowed from bing

One For the Road

I huddled tightly into my raincoat, shrinking back from the pavement edge as the traffic splashed through soaking me from yet another angle. Clutching my umbrella in my fist I struggled on, the rain bounced back off the pavements soaking through my fashionable (but not waterproof) boots and I thought "Why?"

Why I was bothering with this meeting? What did it prove? That I was reliable, dependable, would turn up in all weather; but what did that really say about me? Lonely, desperate, in need of company.

Suddenly the bright lights of the bar were in front of me, I pushed the door open; the damp smell of others sheltering (having nothing to go home to either?), hit me at once. Noisy, quick drinks with colleagues ... blaming the weather for having to stay for a second and then third drink, the storm would have long passed before anyone would venture back out.

I stood by the entrance, searching quickly for familiar faces, I spotted them clustered near the roaring fire, delighted with themselves for securing that much coveted spot. I shook myself, wiping my sodden feet on the mat, I moved almost shyly towards them. Someone turned, perhaps sensing my approach, and boomed out a greeting. I smiled with relief, accepted the offer of a drink, a warm sense of belonging crept over me; then, like the others, I began to ridicule those not courageous enough to make the effort to join us.

"Us", the fearless ones, putting off the inevitable, the loneliness of a cold empty home.

Jane Healy

Posted over on her site A New Start
Listed as #65 over on Magpie Tales 80