a gift from above

Edith lived alone. All her adult life she had lived alone and was very much content with the silence of solitariness which pervaded her cosy bottom-floor flat. She had neither radio nor television, she has neither a phone nor a computer and she had never owned a pet (not even a goldfish.) Edith passed most of her time polishing her very extensive collection of glass ornaments which pleased her very much.

Mr Greenbaum lived in the flat upstairs. Old age had left his legs almost entirely useless, even accomplishing the short trip from his arm-chair to the bathroom and back required much deliberation and strain. Hour after hour he sat in his favourite arm-chair, sometimes just thinking, sometimes trying to remember people's names, places he had visited or things he used to know. Yet most of his time was spent sleeping. Sometimes day would roll into night and then turn to day again and Greenbaum would sleep right through the transition. On one fateful occasion Greenbaum fell into one of his deepest sleeps unaware that he has left the kitchen tap running.

Edith had just finished polishing her most favourite glass elephant. She had been extra cautious to make sure she got into all the nooks and crannies round is beautiful retroflexed trunk. On finishing she took an upwards glance at her ceiling, ‘that’s funny,’ she thought on noticing an extremely ominous shadow spanning almost the whole length and breadth of her ceiling. Then she heard a crack followed by a lot of creaking. Edith began to panic, ‘by gum what on earth is happening.’ Before she could gather her thoughts any further a colossal smash resonated and water, dust and a Mr Greenbaum fell down from above. Greenbaum’s arm-chair crashed through the plaster and landed squarely in the centre of Edith’s sitting-room floor. Edith removed her dust coated glasses in disbelief, ‘Good gracious’ she said aloud. At that moment Mr Greenbaum woke up and timidly introduced himself.

After a while Edith got used to this new arrangement and was content to allow Greenbaum and his arm-chair to remain where they had landed, in the centre of her front-room.

On the bus everyday to uni I pass a block of sheltered-housing flats for old people. I was thinking how lonely it could be in those wee one person-flats and that's when this little story came into my head.