The Old Man

The old man from the Ben came down but once a week. It was an appointment he had only missed once in the past 6 years. The week before his 65th birthday it was. He remembered it well. The first time in 23 years, snow had lain on the hill for more than a day and it was only that which had stopped his regular journey. The bag he carried was never ever more than half full. He had thought once or twice that he might change his trip to once a fortnight but it was a habit now, one which he knew he would find hard to break. It was not a long walk down the track but sometimes a bit tricky, and he was not as young as he used to be. Still, it had to be done, otherwise the old place would be in a bit of a state. Oh, here he comes now, he said to himself. "I came down a bit later today, Allan so I would see you personally. The bin bag you left the week before must have blown away but it's lucky I had an old one in the shed from years ago."

by Nosirrom Lien