Every morning I go to the café to get a latte and hopefully to catch a glimpse of her. Her name I believe is Claudia. She seems lovely. She is one of three baristas that work behind the counter but the café is so popular that you can’t guarantee that you’ll be served by Claudia. In fact I’ve only struck her twice. But she is there behind the counter being pleasant to everyone and looking enchanting. I’m sure she notices me. Sometimes she nods a greeting in my direction.
Next time I get her in the café line I’m going to be really daring and ask if she wants to go to the movies or something. She can only say no. I’ve never had much luck at dating but I’m not giving up yet. She can’t say yes if she’s not asked.
I try to be positive about things but so often rejection seems to be the name of the game. You can tell that most women I ask for a date are not too keen to go out with a guy in a wheelchair.
Cedric had to cross a railway line to get home after work. It wasn’t a direct thing. He would get dropped off next to the railway line after his ride home from work. Then he would walk through a small line of trees, cross over the railway track, pass through another line of trees, cross an unbusy road, and he would be home.
He did that every working day for nearly five years. The trains came through at regular times, so he didn’t need to look as he crossed over. Besides, who couldn’t hear a train coming?
And so it was; get dropped off; go through trees; cross the railway track; go through more trees; cross the road; home.
After five years, Cedric decided to move house. On his very last day in his old house, before moving, he crossed the railway line, and was tragically hit by a car while crossing the road.