Perspectives

Chapter Two - "Reflections"

The sun was shining in the small park but somehow Jimmy had managed to see past it, instead focusing his attention onto the dark grey clouds that were creeping towards him. They provided him with a comforting illusion of choice, stay at the park or go home. He knew that whatever he chose would still leave him in the ice cold rain but he went ahead and headed home, much to the disapproval of the dog.

Just as expected the rain had hit before they could make it home, leaving Jimmy to battle against the torrent of water which pelted down on him like rocks. The dog didn't seem to mind. But he guessed that the dog was unaware of their tragic circumstances.

The road home proved less treacherous than imagined and they had gotten to his house without getting thoroughly soaked, again, much to the dogs displeasure.

He couldn't understand why she liked the rain so much, all it did was weigh you down and leave you to fight against it whilst it blinded you.

Maybe there was more to it, but he guessed that nothing could make the rain seem less frustrating.

Jimmy's house resembled Jimmy in many ways. For starters, it was practically empty of all furniture and belongings, just as Jimmy was practically empty of all good emotions. He liked to think he was being practical, leaving the rotting wooden floor and the frail wallpaper exposed, but all it really did was add to the growing heaviness in his heart, turning it darker than the coal in his fireplace. It was an old one, he didn't know the exact age of the house itself but assumed that the fireplace had been built with it.

He didn't use it often, only to burn postcards his few friends and relatives sent him. He loathed postcards, they were a waste of both his and the postman's time.

The dog, as he had expected, was fast asleep on the small Persian rug he had received as a gift from his mother. Some of the stitches had come undone and it had begun to resemble everything else in his house which was useless and deprived of any positive memories.

With a sigh Jimmy walked up the creaky stairs and to his bedroom which contained a bed, a wardrobe, and a mirror. It was a full length Victorian mirror, with an oak frame hand carved into various delicate designs. Jimmy didn't understand why someone would waste their time carving out the frame if it was not to be used in their own house.

He closed the curtains to hide the one window in his room, it was a small and slightly scary thing. The glass had not been washed in decades and the cold and frosty air combined with the damp walls of the house had allowed mould to coat the edges of the window and make the view on the world outside even more unpleasant.

He slowly walked towards the mirror and stared at himself, the dark circles under his eyes and the permanent frown on his tired face gave an insight as to why a dog might attack him. In all honesty, he felt as though the dog had done him a favour, at least there might have been some emotion on his gave when it sunk it's teeth into his bony leg.

The rain outside had not stopped and kept furiously pounding at his window.

Jimmy stepped back and closed his eyes, but his reflection didn't.