Every once in a great while a man came to the town. He was dressed very simply and carried only a small bundle with his belongings. It was always early morning when he came; silent morning. Everyone stayed indoors when this man appeared. He would walk silently through, while the people peeked from behind the curtains to watch his progress down the one, lonely street of the town. No one was afraid of him, per se; at least that’s what they would have told you if you had asked them. He just had a presence, an aura of windy plains and alone. Some people thought he was God, although he had never spoken and no one had ever spoken to him. 1
His visits were sporadic, sometimes twice a year; sometimes more than three years would pass. When this happened, the people would wonder if he had finally died, but they didn’t discuss it amongst themselves. The strange man had never been mentioned, in fact, by anyone in the town; but everyone knew the mornings he came. They couldn’t have told you how, but on those mornings the people always found some excuse to stay in, to delay the start of the day. The curtains would be drawn against the man and the people would watch as he came up the road; watch as he passed the general store, the community hall, the small daycare. 2
When he reached the centre of the town, the exact centre, he stopped. In front of him, across the small courtyard known as the town square, stood a young woman. The people inside their houses started and murmured words that didn’t exist. A few curtains rustled. Nothing else moved. The woman was the mayor’s widow. She was young and the mayor had been younger when he had died. Her hair was down and stirred slightly in the wind. 3
The man resumed his walk, his eyes not leaving her face. She didn’t move as he neared her, nor did she tense, nor blink. The people watched in silence. The man stopped again, a short distance from the mayor’s widow. She looked into his face for a long moment and stepped closer. The people watched in silence. The man stared searchingly into the eyes of the mayor’s widow. He bent down and kissed her soundly. She closed her eyes and he whispered to her. The people watched in silence. 4
The man straightened and walked on, pace steady, no sign to betray what had just occurred. The mayor’s widow opened her eyes, turned and followed after him; her eyes never leaving his back as they left the town. 5
The people never spoke of what had happened. The man never returned.6
Author notes
Dedicated to Reptilia, who let me write this on a paper towel at her house.
A short story attempt in the combined styles of a few lovely authors, most notably Steinbeck and Conrad.
This is an allegory. Who/What is the man, the town, the mayor's wife and most importantly: the people?
I don't know. You'll have to tell me.
I tried for subtly and depth of meaning, so whether I succeeded or failed, feedback and suggestions would be wonderful.
PS: If you can suggest another title, that would be hero-worthy. I don't like the one I gave it. 
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
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Thanks a lot for both the points and the comments! I'm glad this intrigued you enough to give it some thought. Everything in this story is metaphorical, from the characters and their actions to the setting.
I can't tell you what they mean either, that's for you to decide. I hadn't thought of resignation and acceptance for the man, that's a very interesting idea! You've given me some food for thought as well. Thanks again!
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You call it an Allegory so I'm searching for possible meaning for the man, his arrical, the kiss and his never returning...also for what the toen may be a symbol of. I don't agree with the people in the story that he was God, it doesn't seem to be the right representation. He could have symbolized love, or better yet, resignation and acceptance. Anyway, you given me food for thought and now my poor head is aching.
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Oh, you're too nice to me, G! I don't deserve you! I'm glad you liked the story, I was rather nervous about putting it up... Damn my bad semicolon use!
Heart you to bits! -
wow! that's really deep mols. i loved it...i can't believe you wrote this on a paper towel! mols, maybe you should enter it into a short story contest? or maybe even a scholarship thing, cus i'm sure they accept it! i love the mystery encircliong the whole story, like you said in your comments, who really are the ppl, the widow, the man...it makes you think and it makes you want to read on. and that's why it's such an amazing story, because you make the reader crave for more! anyays you may not think this, but your really an amazing writer, i wish i could write like you molly...yur my idol!
luv
gina
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