Point of View

I stared calmly at him.

“We can’t, John,”

I could see that what I’d said struck him deep, but somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to care like I should have.

I spotted the woman on the bench suddenly, and realised that she’d almost stopped moving the red lump in her hands. Nosy, I sneered before turning back to him.

“I know,” tears streamed down his cheeks, but his brilliant blue eyes were clear as he straightened, wiped at his face with a hand, and walked off.

I could see it in her eyes, the coldness, and for a moment, I wondered where the warmth had fled.

“We can’t, John,” those were her words, clear and sharp, and I knew that what she said was logical.

I know we can’t, I wanted to scream at her, but I held myself back and tied myself down.

I swallowed the irrational anger and hurt that flooded through me, which resulted in warm liquid splashing over my cheeks.

Something in her eyes flickered, and I wanted to laugh.

“I know,” I said, voice choked before I wiped at the traitorous tears that had spilled over. As I walked away from her, I spied the woman perking up as if she were snapping out of a daydream, and there was a warmth in her dark, knowing eyes that made something inside me soften.

I ignored the couple as they passed by me, I had better things to do than eavesdrop on other conversations, despite what most people seemed to think.

I could feel the sweater, already warm, between my fingers, and I smiled to myself.

Little Kathy would love it, I’m sure.

I saw Kathy in my mind’s eye, seeing her warm eyes and her bright smile when she told me that she was expecting her first baby.

‘It’s going to be a girl, ma,’

She’s been so excited that she’d spilt half a cup of tea when she’d told me.

Suddenly, the couple in the corner of my vision split apart, and for the shortest of moments, just before the man walked off, I saw a flash of bright blue and a hint of tears.


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