They Called Him a Tramp. I Called Him Joe

Gold cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Sun, 24 May 2015
  • 5012 reads
18 comments
 
The day after the end of the world was the last anyone ever saw of him. The strange thing was, though, it wasn’t his usual pitch... outside the station with his ‘old girl’; instead, he was sitting, alone on a nearby bench at the entrance to the park.  Propped up by the railings – his weather-beaten placard, ‘THE END IS NIGH...’and below it, several dates crossed out – except yesterday’s.
 
“We’re all still here then, Joe?  I quipped.  “I was expecting to see the four horsemen of the apocalypse, but they never showed.  Could be they got lost... given the wrong directions, maybe.  Mind you, you ‘d think these days they’d be equipped with Tom-Tom,” I joked, hoping to raise a smile.  He looked all-in, and I thought it might cheer him up.  
 
“Waited all day, yesterday, by the river,” he said.  ‘One of the old girl’s favourite haunts; she’d meet her ‘boyfriend’ there, sometimes, for a spot of ‘how’s your father’; one of them posh poodles.  I stayed till dawn this morning...watching, waiting.  Then I came back here...to try and get my head round things.  She’s slipped her lead before, but she’s never gone this long.”
 
‘She’ll probably turn up, Joe’, as large as life, tomorrow.  You know what they say...Worse things happen at sea.  Hey...one good thing; at least the world didn’t end.’
 
“Didn’t it?” he replied, and before I had time to think, he just upped and left.  
 
I shouted after him he’d forgotten his placard.  He stopped, momentarily, and dumped something from his pocket into a rubbish bin.  On closer scrutiny it turned out to be a short length of fraying rope, hanging half in, half out – with a small, brass disc, engraved ‘Jess’.  
 
The next morning, like I’d said, she was there...waiting outside the station for him, as she’s been every morning since, the ‘old girl’. I bring her a bone sometimes, and other folks see she’s alright, but she’s not looking so good of late...and the placard, I keep it in my garage, just in case old Joe stops by, one of these days. 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
Certificate 12
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Spiritual
Biography
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by Stephen Thom on

aw i enjoyed reading some of your prose! this had lots of personality, a quiet sadness, liked the layered possibilities of a disappearance and return at such a time 'the day after the end of the world' and i liked little attentive touches like the frayed rope hanging half in, half out. :-)

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, so very much, Stephen. Your words are of great encouragement to me, whilst wandering, feeling rather lost, in the 'land of prose'smiley  

Tina

 

Submitted by jolono on

Really good Tina. Forget the poetry...come over to the dark side!

 

Submitted by jolono on

This is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the day! Get a great reading recommendation every day.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thank you so very much, jolono.  It made my day, especially as I was feeling very sorry for myself with a stinking cold. Might just celebrate with a smileyslight tipple...for medicinal purposes, naturally

Tina

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

brilliant choice! Congratulations Tina

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

insert...ta muchlysmiley

 

Submitted by airyfairy on

Congratulations indeed.  Thoughtful and the best kind of emotional. 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Appreciated no end. Thanks, afsmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by tibi popovici on

"day after the end of the world"

‘THE END IS NIGH...’

“We’re all still here then, Joe?

“Waited all day, yesterday, by the river,”

‘She’ll probably turn up, Joe’,

“Didn’t it?”

"The next morning, like I’d said, she was there..."

Impossible! surprise

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Ah, but sometimes, tibi, the impossible is impossibly possible, if you get my driftsmiley

Have a sunny Monday.

Tina

 

Submitted by scratch on

Very good Tina.  A great choice too.  WRITE MORE PROSE...  I'll stop shouting now and go for a lie down.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks so much for your more than valued words of encouragement, scratch. Shall try to do just that...and I hope you found your 'lie-down'  therapeuticsmiley

 

Submitted by love_writing on

I'm enjoying reading your prose too!  I found this one thought provoking, touching and tender. 

love_writing

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Sincere thanks to you, lw.  smiley  Kind of you to say so.

Tina

 

Submitted by VeraClark on

He feels real and it's cutting. You give a glimpse of a life story and life cycles, too. 

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, so very much, Verasmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by forest_for_ever on

I met a tramp at Liverpool Street station in 1972... forty years later I went to the Whitechapel mission.  Amazingly they remembered his name.  Michael had died in the 90s.  I never got to say goodbye.  Your Joe, my Michael remind me about life if I ever start feeling sorry for myself.  A poignant story.  Thank you for writing it.