Newspaper tucked under one arm, briefcase swinging from his hand and an umbrella clutched regally in the other, Tony briskly walked the short distance from his office to the ferry terminal. With his face set forward, he, like everyone else around him, avoided allowing his gaze to encounter another’s. 1
That was the custom of the City. Though they breathed, worked and ate in close confines, every individual was as separate as lone pines across a valley. Beyond simply existing in this hectic world, they did not acknowledge the others. 2
Tony reached the terminal and sat on one of the courtesy seats, paying particular care not to bump the woman on his left, nor encroach on the space between him and the next person. 3
Personal space was at a premium in the City. Each individual cherished their own confines, and everyone obeyed the unspoken rule – no one dared to cross the boundaries demarcating what belonged to everyone and what belonged to one. 4
Once satisfied his position was equidistant to the others, Tony unfolded the newspaper at the finance section and read as he waited.
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Tony’s life was the same from one day to the next. Six days a week, he would rise sharply at 6a.m., go about his morning ablutions with practised care, eat his two eggs – sunny side up – with bacon and toast, and sip his coffee, before picking up his briefcase and wishing his wife of thirty-eight years goodbye with a peck on the cheek. That day had been no different – except for the umbrella – which he had snagged from the stand in the hallway after a cursory glance out the kitchen window. 5
He had driven to the train station, parked his car in the same space as the morning before, and caught the same train at the same time to the same station. Then, after a twenty-minute ferry ride, he strolled to work. After eight hours of crunching numbers and trying to predict the outcome of various financial markets, he arrived back at the ferry terminal.6
Tony enjoyed waiting. As long as he had that day’s paper and no one to disturb him, he could imagine himself waiting forever. It was peaceful in a way.
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And so, the next day, Tony found himself where he normally found himself at just after five on a weekday – waiting. He had just engrossed himself in the market report when a voice ruptured his bubble of peacefulness.7
“Say, you wouldn’t have the time?”8
Like everyone else, Tony ignored the intrusion.9
That was, until the speaker tapped him on the shoulder. “Sir? The time?”10
Tony deigned only to glance up. Standing just in front of him, a tall, gaunt man waited.11
Rattling the paper in the manner one in the City did when one needed to convey annoyance, Tony tried his best to ignore him. The man didn’t take the implied social cue, and instead, remained where he was. 12
His lip curling, Tony sighed. Flipping his wrist toward him, he sighted the time and recited it to the man, “Five-twelve.”13
The gaunt man smiled as if something not entirely obvious had amused him. He tipped his hat at Tony. “Good day to you, Sir.”14
With a nonchalant grunt, Tony went back to his paper.
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Another day passed, and Tony once again sat down to wait for his ferry. As he separated the pages of the newsheet, the same papery-thin voice addressed him, this time from his right.15
“The time, Sir?”16
Without glancing across, Tony replied, “Time for you to purchase a watch.”17
A pause followed, filled by a slow intake of breath. “I have no need for a watch.”18
“Then why ask for the time?”19
“You look like a man with time on his hand.”20
Tony grimaced; there was something not quite right about the gaunt man’s statement, but he dismissed it when he recited the time, and then something else took precedence in his mind.21
Once again, the stranger wished him well before melting into the lingering crowds.
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Two days later, Tony ran late. As he leapt onto the ferry behind the last of the passengers, his defiant backwards gaze caught the eyes of a tall man in a bowler hat.
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It was a week later that the stranger made a reappearance, striding through the crowds as Tony cursed the absence of his newspaper. 22
“Looking for this?”23
The man had stopped in front of him, proffering that day’s Examiner. 24
“Don’t need to know the time today?” Tony snidely asked, as he snatched the paper from the man’s grasp.25
The man smiled. “Ah, yes, what is the time?”26
Tony glanced at his watch. “Five-twelve.”27
The man tapped the paper as he sat down beside Tony. “Interesting article on page twenty-seven…”28
He absently flipped the pages until a headline declared: ‘Banking Community Mourns the Sudden Death of....’ Tony snapped the paper shut as he said, “Of no interest to me.”29
The man sat silent for a moment, before recounting the words from the closed newspaper, “‘…the sudden death of Anthony Felton, respected investment banker for…’”30
“Who are you?”31
“I think you know who I am, you just haven’t accepted it yet. I daresay it makes no sense to a fastidious man like you.”32
Tony glared out across the water. “I think it may be best if you go away and leave me alone.”33
The man stood. He tipped his black bowler hat in farewell. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Anthony, and the next day, and the day after. I have all the time in the world to wait.”34
Tony ignored the profound statement as the gaunt stranger walked away; he had that day's paper and no one to disturb him.35
Waiting was... peaceful. He'd do it forever if he could.
36
Silver trophy winner
Bronze trophy winner
Gold trophy winner
Adding your comment:
I think the word limit hampered the awesomeness just a bit, but contests iz contests.
