The Boy on the Corner of Wyle Street

The day was dark, morose and dusted with specks of drizzling rain. It was as morbid as any winter day could be. For those people in their warm, gas heated houses the weather was no serious problem. However there was a boy who sat on the corner of Wyle street that would make people think otherwise. No one knew his name, his circumstance, how he came about sitting there everyday for hours or where he went every night. No one probably cared for this information either, for he was just another seemingly homeless boy with a tear stricken face,wearing clothes befitting those poorer than poor.
Everyday from sunrise to sunset, this boy would sit on the corner of Wyle street. He would engage with no one, a strange kind of behavior for a boy supposedly seeking money for food. He would simply sit there thinking perhaps about a better life that he could live if he were a person amongst those walking around him. There wasn't anyone that actually knew if that was indeed what he was thinking.
The story of the boy was actually more compelling than anyone could have ever thought possible. The boy was a mystery in a manner of speaking for he was someone of few words as well as few relatives. His greatest secret was that he was seeking his father. The boy was the heir to the greatest fortune his family could have ever accomplished. The family was renowned for their spectacular witt in the business world but they were 'cursed' with calamities. The young lad was raised, since birth, by his grandfather because his mother died during childbirth. His grandmother passed away shortly after in a car accident and his aunt and uncle were victims to a mugging gone wrong, both of whom died shortly after the horrific incident. His father lives and works in another country and did not know of his existence until a month prior. The boy sent a message to the father in hopes that discovering he has a son, he will rush to meet him. The innocent child said that he looks forward to meeting his father and that they should meet that week on the corner of Wyle street.
The message was sent and the boy thought that his father would jump at the chance to meet him, to get to know his flesh and blood.
Each day that passed brought more grief to the boy as the previous, for the father was still nowhere to be seen. So each day he came and he sat on the corner and he waited and waited and waited. The boy grew sadder and sadder each day the father did not come and each day brought more helplessness for him too.
Little did the boy know, the father was so happy and excited to meet  his son he got in his car the minute he received the message; at midnight the first night, and that is when the 'curse' struck. For as he safely made it into town, he stopped at a refueling station to ask for directions, unbeknownst to him that the place was being robbed at the time, he startled one of the robbers and was shot dead in an instant.
The boy would never get to know the great person his father was and the great love he would have had for his beloved son.
Never knowing of his latest calamity, the boy would visit the corner of Wyle street everyday in hopes that his father would finally show up, that he would finally get to know someone other than his grandfather. His grief would double each day that he sits there until one day he decides to never return to that corner. No one would care that the boy does not return, no one would bother to know him, or the possible places where he could be. No one would wonder what ever happened to the tear stricken boy that used to sit on the corner of Wyle street because he was just another child on the side of the road.
--END--

This is a Prelude to forthcoming story entitled: The Woman in the Dress.