Decades

He was sixty something, found dead after a week in his ancient sagging armchair, his house empty apart from rotting stacks of newspapers and the mingling smells of beer and cigarettes. The funeral was not a crowded affair, but the old man's will, which divided his meager possessions between friends with whom he had lost contact long ago and various small charities, had ended oddly. He had bemoaned the manner in which he had watched the future burn away before his eyes. The final line had begged forgiveness from an old woman, a grandmother down the street, who claimed not to know him.

He was in his late fifties and rarely left his armchair. He claimed that traveling was a fools errand and that he preferred to remain where he was. He shot his rifle above the heads of kids who dared to venture through the chain link fence into his overgrown yard. His only company was an ancient, blind dog.

He was in his forties, watching the woman he loved live her life with two beautiful children that weren't his. He went for walks in the parks with the puppy that had been a Valentines Day gift to her. It had not been enough to make her leave her husband.

He had been alive for three decades and money was tight. His fiancée, the girl of his dreams, worried that they would not be able to eat. He wiped the tears from her face and promised her that nothing would ever keep them apart.

He was in his twenties, and saw the faces of the men he had killed projected on his ceiling every night as he lay awake. The war had left him with shaking hands and hollow eyes. His only consolation was the kind young woman from his hometown who saw past the pain in his eyes.

He was a teenager, and had turned to drinking just as his father had years before. His English teacher held him back after class and begged him to get his grades up. After all, he had dreams of college. He swore to himself in a fit of rage that he would not grow to hate the world as his father had.

He was nearly ten and his whole being thrummed with life. He was ambitious, and had decided long ago that he was going to visit Africa someday if he had the time. His best friend was a little girl in pigtails who had eyes like the sky. He did not know what the future held for him, but he felt it must be wonderful.

A newborn baby a long time ago smiled, and faced the wide and wonderful world for the first time without a hint of fear.