Steemit Story Challenge 1: Thoughts

The old man sat in his easy chair interrupting his prayers to stare out the window. It was Winter and bitterly cold even in his tenement where the radiators whistled their shrill annoying song. Outside he could see the few brave souls, braving the rotten weather to scurry about. The wind whistled through the canyons of the city blowing stinging rain and sleet like shards of glass hurled from the hand of some malevolent giant, penetrating thin coats of the unprepared. The Sun barely shone this time of year, instead it hung like a greasy dish against an ashen sky. Across the street was a vacant lot, half covered by dirty snow...a filthy patchwork quilt punctuated by an occasional abandoned tire and strewn with broken glass. It was winter in the city.

His thoughts turned inward now. He was old and the end was near, he knew it. When you're young, he thought, you never think about being old. But, when you're old, you sure think about being young. He thought about the lot across the street, when he was young it was there as well. There was never a building there as long as he could remember. No kids ever played there, they were too busy stealing and causing trouble. Little bastards. You were no better, he thought. When he was young he stole anything that wasn't tied down. Little stuff at first, then cars and other things. He chuckled and shook his head.

His thoughts came in bunches, fragmented now. His breathing became labored. Time for a cigarette, he thought, fuck it- nobody lives forever. He lit one up and breathed out through his nose...he coughed. You leave this world the same way you come in, no hair, no teeth, shitting in a diaper...Golden years my ass. He laughed out loud and coughed some more. He was a hard man, no nonsense, no bullshit. Maybe that was why his kids didn't come around. They were grown and lived far away. He got the occasional phone call, birthdays, Christmas, and other special occasions...all out of rote, no warmth, no love. His bitch ex-wife saw to that with all her lies. Nasty cheating whore had turned his own kids against him. Maybe if things had been different. Maybe if he had been different. Maybe. Maybe if the dog hadn't stopped to take a shit, he would have caught the rabbit. Maybe. Maybe if a frog had wings, he wouldn't bump his ass. He coughed again. He thought back across the chasm of time. He had been a pretty good man. He gave. He gave to his family. He gave to his church. He gave until there was nothing left to give and now, he was alone.

As he looked out the window, a dog came into view. A wretched creature that looked as if it hadn't eaten for weeks. The poor thing's ribs stuck out like a xylophone. He would feed the thing if he could get up. Just as he began to rise a loud noise erupted. The dog started and ran off down the alley. Slowly, he sank back into his chair. Alone, he thought. He didn't mind being alone. The solitude gave him opportunity to think. Lately his thoughts had turned to contemplating what comes next. He wasn't afraid to die, the pain was becoming almost unbearable. The medication wasn't working anymore and death would almost be a relief. There was a certain curiosity about the whole thing that brought about a spirit of adventure.

He shook himself back to reality and resumed his prayers. Hail Mary full of Grace... His Rosary slipped from his hands and he was gone.