PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Do you feel like you have done all you wanted to, I thought as I was walking around my apartment. The days have gone by so fast that I didn’t even notice that I haven’t crossed out the days on my calendar in a long time. As I cross out the days, I notice what day it finally is. January 1, 2007. It was already a new year. A fresh new start for an old man. Now all I have to do is get out of New York and out of my apartment. I was born in the apartment I live in still to this day, I grew up in the residence, and it was the only place that now made me happy and comfortable.  I have lived in the same dwelling for 81 years and every day seems to be the exact same as the one before. Every Sunday, I wake up at 7:45 am to go to the pharmacy across the street, which opens up at 8 am, to obtain my medicine and possibly some milk. The rest of the week, I just park myself on my usual bench in front of my building and watch the rest of the elder inhabitants come sit on their bench, talk about little things, such as memories of prior times when they were juvenile, and then I watch them abscond their bench and revisit their apartments. Today, I noticed that the regulars I grew up with seemed to be shrinking and dwindling day by day. a reduced amount of the citizens I knew as “familiars” were coming to the bench area. They were all in a “better place,” as they say, but what’s better then being here. When would I be in a healthier place? When would I have my opportunity at eternal happiness? That day seems to by no means want to come. For the past six years, that day has both disturbed me in my dreams and given me hope during the day of a better tomorrow. I suddenly envision going upstairs to my apartment, getting my accustomed glass of seltzer water, and laying down on my region of the bed. Under the balmy blanket my partner got for me before she passed away. All this thinking has yet again forced me to fail to remember to look at what time it was. I stare at my watch and it says 7 pm. I stand up to depart my bench but after about two steps, I feel wobbly, lethargic, and my legs feel like they are going to just shut down. My skull now feels eight times its size and I collapse to the ground, starting to feel rather faint. I give in, and doze. A nice, long slumber.

I wake up feeling revitalized and wound up. For a man of my age and my poor health, that is a feeling I haven’t felt in over 51 years. When I was thirty years old I was in a car accident that could’ve ended my life. Instead, it had me on crutches for eleven months and knee braces for thirteen months. This morning, or afternoon, whatever time it was, my knees felt up to the minute. I was walking from my bench to the bench next to it with no difficulty. However, because of what I was accustomed to, I sat down on my bench and looked around as always. Behind me is the park where the children used to play, now those children are all grown up and in high school, but I still see them running around in there. But what about the previous day? It seemed like such a blur I hardly remember if I got my medication and milk. I look at my watch. It doesn’t show it’s usual glimpse of numbers and the date. It’s the same watch I had yesterday, but it has two words instead of the time. WELCOME TOM. Never knew my watch had that type of function, but then again, I never knew what a DVD was until a week ago when I encountered my very first one at the store next to the pharmacy. The fancy technology these days are incredible. Still doesn’t answer my question. What time is it? I look straight ahead and become aware of one of the familiars, Nancy. Without any throbbing in my legs, I stroll over to her and ask her, “Do you have the time Nancy?”  After some time, I notice she isn’t replying. She doesn’t even seem to perceive that I am right in front of her. I decide to ask again. “Nancy, dear, do you know what time it is?” I say a little louder. But she just keeps on staring ahead. I look at the female next to her, her Spanish aid. I believe her name is Nicole. “Nicole, do you have the time?” I wait at least a minute until I notice that they don’t seem to want to pay attention to me. I try once more. “Que hora es, Nicole?”  That arrangement didn’t seem to work out at all. I tried to remember if that was even how you said what time is it in Spanish, and that was definitely perfect. My pronunciation wasn’t off either. The aid just seems to be holding Nancy’s hand, probably to make sure she still has a pulse. Maybe somebody should check Nicole if her hearing is ok. Or maybe these two were just being vulgar and imagining I wasn’t there. I wasn’t exactly the most liked senior in my building. I do a quick rotation around the bench vicinity and see everybody sitting down, as normal. I try to cause a scene by pretending to fall down on the ground; I do everything possible to make this look like an actual heart attack. I even grasp my chest as if in pain. Still, nobody comes to my aid. I become perturbed, “Does anybody have the god damn time or do I have to go upstairs to my house just to find out?” I scream as thunderous as I could. This scream was louder than I can ever remember coming out of my mouth. I really must be younger than I can consider. Nobody answers my inquiry, including Nancy and Nicole. Upstairs, to my apartment, that is my only option left. That is where I can find the time without being disregarded. I walk towards my lobby door. I notice that there are unsystematic gaps in the bushes that must be from the neighborhood adolescents fooling around in front of the building yet again. I arrive at the lobby and sprint up the stairs, a feat I haven’t dared to try in fifty one years, and end up at my apartment door, 2F. I go inside and look at my cable box in my living room, and see the most baffling thing. Instead of the time, there are words, just like my watch. I dart into my bedroom and look at that cable box, more words. My brainpower starts kicking in and I put all the words together in the most valid way. WHAT ARE YOU SEARCHING FOR… Why the three dots at the end, am I missing part of the sentence. Is it like that puzzle I could never finish because I had misplaced that last piece? No, I wouldn’t let that occur this time! I looked and looked all over my apartment, until finally, out of pure instinct, I looked down at my watch. Easily, I put all the words together now. All of a sudden, I start remembering previous events when something awkward happened. When I screamed outside, nobody even glanced at me. No living thing, not even the pigeon that was right next to my foot, didn’t seem to notice. Not even when I fell to the ground, the bird still stayed in the same spot, I even remember rolling through the bird, not over it. Also, I didn’t use my key for my lobby door or my apartment door. Most importantly, I didn’t even open up any of the three doors I went through. I put all the words together again, after this all hit me. WHAT ARE YOU SEARCHING FOR… ETERNAL HAPPINESS IS REACHED. As I recall what happened to me the day before, I notice two things. One, my life had finally changed and this day was nothing compared to the previous day. And the second thing was on the floor, underneath the table. The misplaced puzzle piece. I picked it up and walked into my workroom and added it to the puzzle. I could finally see what the puzzle actually was. It shows a man holding a sword over a stone, and the final piece was the person in the puzzles face. Not just any old face though, it was my face, and I was smiling. It seems he, I mean I, must have pulled the sword out of the stone, due to the crack in the rock exactly under the sword. Finally, the puzzle was comprehensive, and I established eternal happiness. As I gradually walk into my bedroom, I see my wife for the first time in twenty years lying in the exact spot I had left vacant since her demise. I lied down next to her, and we began to kiss. As we made love, we lied down next to each other, our faces nearly touching. A white light was seen in the distance and I was finally in a “better place,” as they say.