Lost and Found

For two years now I have moved from place to place, making each one my home for the day. That was until I met the old man three weeks ago.

It's not as bad as it sounds. A benefit of living the way I do is that I don't need to haul any stuff around and because I don't have a bank account, I don't need to leave a forwarding address.

Now don't get me wrong, there are downsides to this lifestyle. Friends are hard to come by; most people never notice me, and because I don't have any redeeming features, I don't stand out in a crowd. So I see a lot of things I'm not meant to see.

Like the time I saw a middle-aged, balding man push his wife off Brighton Pier; one minute they were holding hands, laughing and smiling and I actually found myself feeling rather jealous of their love, that is, until they reached the end, and --whoosh-- She was gone. The man didn't look very upset to lose his wife as he walked away smiling.

Then there was the time a little boy was taken from his front garden while his parents were inside. I don't think the man was supposed to take him as the little boy didn't seem to know the man.

I know I should have offered some help in those situations, but that's just not me. My brother, he's the strong one. My father always said I needed to be more like my sibling because Weakness wouldn't get me anywhere in life.

It's my fault my life is this way. When I was younger, I had a carefree attitude; I loved the great outdoors. I was a sightseer, but it all changed when I met this bird. It started out as a one night stand. Within a week, she came back to tell me she was pregnant, and we weren't just having one child, we were going to have three. We tried to make a go of it. I started to convince myself that we could be a family together, but I couldn't even feed myself most days. What hope did I have of feeding four other mouths?

When I left her just before the little ones were born, everyone stopped acknowledging me. I was banished from the family home, and my friends stopped inviting me anywhere, especially to watch the Football. We always had good seats at Crystal Palace.

The recession has made things particularly difficult for me. Before, I was guaranteed to have at least one good meal a day from the homeless shelters. Now by the time I get there, everybody's so bloody starving, they don't leave so much as a crumb.

A few months ago I met a nice old man. He told me his name was Arthur and that he was rich but lonely. He started to bring me a bit of food each day. One time I followed him home, just to see how the other side live. It was easily the biggest house I have ever seen in my life.

I started sleeping in a little bungalow that I think he used for guests. The window was left open, so it wasn't breaking and entering, and it was so cold outside, I couldn't help myself.

I learned from watching Arthur that he lived alone and never had any visitors. He was just like me.

Then one day he came over to the bungalow and found me asleep in the bedroom. Arthur said he'd been looking everywhere for me, and I was more than welcome to stay if I wanted to.

From that day on he would bring over a meal each day. This went on for the whole winter, until one day he just stopped coming over. I made my way over to the big house, and when I looked through The window he looked so peaceful in his chair. If it wasn't for the shotgun between his legs, Id have been certain he was fast asleep.

Now as I lay here in the middle of the road, with my left wing broken; I know I'm going to die. My last wish is that I could have spoken to Arthur, just once. I'd of said thank you for finding me.

The End