The world was full of Bad Things and he knew it. He was aware, he was angry, indignant and impotent. He argued, he shouted, he gnashed his teeth and roared. People listened, they agreed. Something must be done. Something would be done. Sometime. Sometime soon. In the Future. What About This he would say and they would agree. And This Too and they would all nod assent while someone in the background, an older man with white hair all around his face would go True, True. And Surely This, he would continue, Is A Prime Example Of and no-one would demur. He knew the things he thought and said were Important and Of Significance because they all began with Big Letters even in his head and this made him feel like he was Doing Good and Making A Difference.
On the days when it wasn’t cold and dark which wasn’t very often he would walk the streets and step in front of people, in front of strangers. He would grab them by their coat lapels - everyone wore a coat with lapels because it was usually very cold and wintry - and he would shake them, pointing to the sky saying Look! Look! Don’t You See? Sometimes people would push him off with a troubled look in their eyes and force their way past him, but other times they would look to where he was pointing and they would see and their eyes would widen in dawning understanding and their mouths would make an ‘O’ shape and their breath would escape in a short, sharp puff of dismay and thoughts and ideas with big letters would form in their heads too and he would release them and walk on, more assured, more secure and he knew then, that Things Were About To Change.
He awoke one morning as if from a horrible dream with a dry mouth and a slight feeling of nausea that comes with new things, unknown things. He washed and showered and had breakfast in silence, thinking all the while. He knew that something was different. But not Something and not Different and this troubled him. He stood outside his front door and looked out onto the world. The sky was clear and the sun was out and people were walking with a spring in their step and they weren’t wearing coats and it was then that he realized that all the bad things had gone and everything was full of promise and hope and the bad things would never happen again he thought, not while he was around to do anything about it and he felt good about himself and the future. The only problem he could see was what to do about everything that had gone on before because just because the horrible dream was over, well that didn’t mean that the bad things hadn’t happened and surely someone should answer to all the bad things right? But no-one appeared to agree with him anymore and most people were just so happy that the bad things had stopped happening that they didn’t see any need for anyone, least of all him, to go bothering about with what wasn’t happening anymore and couldn’t he be just happy that everything was good and bright and hopeful? Which, he said, he was, really and truly he was but what about everything that had happened, shouldn’t’t someone at least be, you know, following up on that? But everyone he spoke to was so busy looking up at the bright sky, with their sunglasses on and their smiling faces bathed in sun that they either didn’t hear him or ignored him and even though everyone was happy and hopeful something inside of him felt a little bit wrong because he thought that something important was being missed.
After a while though, the wrong feeling went away because he liked the clear sky and he had a fine pair of sunglasses he wished to show off and he didn’t want to be a sourpuss and he was sure he wasn’t the only one with the wrong feelings and it would probably be picked up on by another, better person than him anyway.
