It was 9AM on Sunday morning, no one was really awake on the street but then again Sunday was the only day no one worked.
Five houses in from the right on the left side of the road lived a man, this man was just like any other business man. Smart ties, ironed suits, dull briefcase, oh and the desire of suicide.
He is around 26, living alone, not even a small creature to soften the monotony. He was fully aware of his loneliness and how it was slowly eating away at him.
Each Sunday morning waking up with pain in heart and body knowing that no one would be lying next to him to greet his sorrows and remove them as if dust on a shelf.
He lurched out of bed similar to that of a caveman, knowing that with no real motivation or knowledge of what was to come he shouldn’t make an effort. Sunday was his day, although he so longed for someone to own his heart so it could be their day.
He wrapped his dressing gown around him, missing the little heat that was in his bed not only embraced with the tiny sharp spikes of the fibers.
With no conditional or extravagant motivation with groans coming from each step, he made his way downstairs. Passing a door way and an empty fish bowl with an algae infested castle in the middle. He paused momentarily without looking back, knowing that there was no need to sprinkle food into the bowl.
After putting what any insane man would call the workings of a good cup of tea in a mug, he boiled the kettle and aimed for the bread.
"Toast, my old friend" he muttered.
Just as he picked up the bread an idea struck him, possibly the best one he had had in awhile. With two slices of bread in hand he went to his back garden. Nothing special by any means but good enough for what he’d thought.
A slowly pinched of pieces of the bread and began flinging it around his garden, small birds began to fly in and chirp in joy at food that wasn’t either cold or moving.
He did the same with the other piece, flinging it around and watched as the small birds nibbled and enjoyed. For the first time in a long time the man had done something which he didn’t find it possible, he was smiling.
The birds for those few moments loved his gifts to them and thanked him with a chirp.
He was happy, and didn’t feel the urge to make a drastic move. Peace over come him, and the hate and despair washed away.
Since then every morning of everyday, no matter the weather. He’d go out and scatter bread for the birds, happy in their happiness.
Inspiration by entry 22 - http://liveboldandbloom.com/10/life-coaching/99-ways-to-feel-good-about-yourself-right-now