SPECIAL DELIVERY
The building seemed innocent enough in the soft glow of the setting sun. A little foreboding perhaps, in its institutional grey brickwork, but not an imposing site by any means. Still, a chill wrapped its way along the length of his spine and he was unable to take the next step towards his destination.
He had tied his shoes three times already, and retied them twice as many times again. He had plucked an apple from the branches of the tree that stretched out over him and the sidewalk and nibbled it nervously, wincing as the tart juices flowed over his taste buds.
He had called to check in at his office, eaten three pieces of gun, and watched as the sun had slowly sunk from just past its mid-day apex, to its current position just over the distant western horizon.
He had procrastinated as long as he could and finally, with a seemingly titanic effort, he crossed the street and made his way along the brick walkways to the solid doors that marked the entrance to the building.
He paused for a moment at the front desk and when the woman asked whom he was there to see, he spoke her name. The woman typed the name into her computer and with a warm smile, directed him to the fifth floor.
He waited patiently for the elevator in the antiseptic smelling foyer until the doors finally slid open with a soft ding.
He pressed the button marked five and as the elevator lurched upwards, he took a few deep breaths to compose himself. The love of his life was lying in a bed, three floors away. He hadn’t come to tell her that, but the thought crossed his mind.
The doors slid jerkily open and he stepped out onto the fifth floor, following the helpful directional signage. He was three rooms away when he decided not to delay. It would be easier just to walk right into the room with a smile on his face. He felt sick as he stepped into the room.
She looked exhausted. Her hair clung limply to her forehead, her eyes were puffy and red in her slightly bloated face. She had seen better days.
He scanned the room quickly, a mental inventory of sorts. It was as he had anticipated.
Her husband was sitting in a small plastic chair next to her bed. He was staring at her with complete adoration. He was the best man and the best man had won.
They were focused intently on the cooing bundle between them. From his position in the door, he could jest see a wrinkly pink hand jutting forth. He set the flowers gently on the empty bed before him and stepped back out into the hall.
He had never felt happier in his life.
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