This is sort of a short story that almost completed, maybe just a few more touch-ups here and there.
Read and comment! Enjoy!
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Rain poured in through the open window as the old man struggled to close it. Fumbling for the window latches, he realised that he was not strong enough. The rain continued its unrelenting downpour through the window. Exhausted, he gave up and sat on his bed. He waited for someone to visit or call, yet no one came. It was another lonely day in the ward for Mr Davis.
He looked around, accustomed to the walls that surrounded him. How badly he wanted to get out of this horrid place! Stretching out his frail hands before him, he saw that the skin had already wrinkled and appeared blemished. Think green veins stood out from his hands, running down his arm as it pulsated with the blood of an old man. Mr Davis knew that he would be dying soon.
“At the most you can live 5 years more. The least would just be a few weeks,” his doctor said. “Try to live your best.”
Those words troubled Mr Davis deeply. He felt uneasy, trying to bury the contemplation of just living 5 years more. No! It was just too short! Unconsciously, cold sweat dripped over his forehead and around his neck as he fought a fierce battle with reality, unable to accept his tangled fate.
Brooding over his existence, he eventually came to realize how his entire life, birth to death, could be reviewed in his mind as if it just happened several minutes ago. And in realizing that he found how short man’s life was. Mr Davis had finally come to terms with his fate.
As he started to recollect how he had lived his life, his face turned expressionless, cold and pale.
“Mummy, look at the sky, it’s so blue!” Alfred shouted “and the sea too, its just so beautiful isn’t it?”
That was the first time that he had been to the beach and never in his life did he ever see such a vastness of blue before. His mother turned around, nodding her head in agreement. Alfred took in a deep breath and held it, smelling the salty sea breeze. At that moment, he made a pact with himself that blue would be his favourite colour for the rest of his life. To him, the colour held a great significance, showing both beauty and power of the sky and sea.
As a child, Alfred went to school and had a habit of sitting next to a window. However, the reason for doing so was not apparent. He enjoyed let the cooling breeze blow through his hair but all the more he wanted to keep the pure blueness of the sky within his sight. He felt calm whenever he looked at the sky, a feeling that he could do anything. More often than not, more attention was paid to the world outside the open glass panels than to the blackboard in the classroom.
“Ahem. Alfred Davis, please pay attention during my lessons or I shall have to send you out.” His teacher hollered at him from the front of the classroom.
Alfred had apparently paid no attention to the warning. Rolling his own thoughts about in his head, he stared out of the open window and saw the sky turning gloomy. His teacher shouted at him, with much sternness implied to his harsh words.
But Alfred felt nothing, neither sadness nor anger. The precedent blue sky had already calmed him.
As Mr Davis went over the memories of his childhood, he cried softly as he looked at his frail and weak body. He thought of the times when he was still young and his love for the colour blue. The times when he could run about freely in the open fields, full of springing energy that could not be contained within his body. The image was etched deeply into his mind.
Then, at the very moment he thought of the fields and skies, his entire body shook slightly but uncontrollably. He tried to stand up but his legs refused to move. He panicked. His heart suffered electrical like shocks, aching with agony with every passing second. Welling tears were flowing from the eyes of the frenzied old man, distorted by his past memories.
Where had the calm Mr Davis gone? The Mr Davis that had always kept his calm composure, even when faced with mentally strenuous situations was now breaking apart. He had been defeated by the simplest of his own memories.
Blue was what Mr Davis saw his surroundings as through his teary feature. His favorite colour had turned into his enemy, shrouding him with the worst misery he had ever faced in his life.
“The sea…” words tumbled about in his mind as he tried hard to rearrange his thoughts that had fallen off its shelves. “…the sky…” Trying hard to regain composure. “So beautiful… …”
Slowly the fog lifted.
Once more he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, now able to smell the same salty sea breeze as he did sixty years ago. Again he pictured himself as the little boy that he used to be, but this time, he let it go, fading away a little by a little until he could no longer see the image in his head.
He opened his eyes and smiled, knowing that he had conquered his greatest enemy. The worst was over. Mr Davis had eventually realised that in life, one had to learn to take up something with a passion, but always ready to let it go anytime without any hesitation.
He had fought a long and hard mental battle and was drained from all the energy spent . The internal contemplation had allowed him to see how beautiful everything still was after all the long years. Satisfied, he felt that he had found the meaning of life. He slumped onto his bed, fast asleep within minutes, a contented smile on his face.
Outside, the rain stopped. Wispy white clouds replaced the gray ones as the sun began to emerge out of the gloom. Birds twittered a cheerful tune as rays of light danced on the canopy of surrounding trees. Up above was the blue sky, a rich colour that complemented nature. Mr Davis never again got another chance to see the beautiful blue sky. Ever.
