The Chain Linked Fence
Uploaded by kylee on Mar 15, 2001
He was a quiet man, never bothered anyone and hated to be bothered. Walter kept to himself mostly, no one wanted to talk to him and he was never able to find reason for conversation. He was set in his ways, and didn’t like change, in fact, he wouldn’t stand for it.
Walter had had the same daily routine for the better part of his life. He woke promptly at 6 a.m., used the wash room to brush his hair (what was left of it) and his teeth (what was left of them.) After doing this, he went to his closet and picked out his clothes, which always consisted of black pants and a blue dress shirt, like I said, Walter didn’t like change.
He was your average looking elderly man. The only thing that stuck out was his height; he was a few inches over six feet tall. A once stern face was now covered with ancient wrinkles; he had thick brown glasses, the same prescription as when he was 12, always left a wide intent on his nose. His hair was now gray and barley covered his freckled scalp. A bald spot rested upon the top of his head, he never noticed it, and he didn’t want to.
After he would dress, he walked down the stairs ignoring the cracks and creaks with every bend of his knee. His first task of the morning was fetching the paper, walking down the porch steps and bending over to pick it up was now becoming a hardship he didn’t want, or need. After retrieving the paper, he would sit alone at an old metal table, starring hard at the empty chair in front of him. It wasn’t always empty, Helen used to accompany him to breakfast everyday, but, she was gone now. He shook his head trying to clear his mind of his deceased wife; he slowly took a sip of coffee while pulling the rubber band off the newspaper.
Every morning, Walter vowed to call the newspaper and tell them to stop wasting trees to print the measly paper which was now only filled with gossip stories about movie stars, no real news ever made the paper in the small town. Walter made these vows every morning, but, calling the morning paper wasn’t a part of his daily routine, but making empty promises had somehow found its way into...