Through a Light...

What closely resembled like a sunshine has lighted Mr. S' home; the house that's right in front of us (see my "Big Red" entry down below). For years since I've lived in that neighborhood I rarely if not never seen any light emitted from their windows at night nor the blinds were ever drawn back during the day. I would conclude that they're a very thrifty couple who snuggled in the comfort of their darkness or just plain paranoid. Aside from my assuring knowledge that there were indeed people living in that place because of Mr. S' cigarette break every morning (plus a workout of an arm to greet me goodbye), the missus remained a complete mystery to me; although Mr. Landlord had some sightings of her during the day when I'm at work.

But alas when the Big Red came to pick up Mr. S last week I thought I was finally going to see his elusive wife. Before I put it upon myself to visit him at the hospital, Mr Landlord told me the bad news -- Mr. S passed away on a Thursday night after a painful decision freshly reminiscent of the Terry Schiavo case. I was saddened that I would never get the chance to know the spurts of warmth produced in that place.

Quietly I dropped off a small card, a thought that a complete stranger was at least affected by their little presence. And tonight, as I put it in the mailbox, I saw the light from the house secretly hopeful to myself that a word or a wave of a hand will come someday. Or the light, a piece of sunshine, will ultimately guide Mr. S home.