Young Writers Society

The fifty dollar note was in the man's bag. It was one of many.

He stood on a subway platform, waiting for a train that was hopelessly late. A crowd had begun to gather, and grumble. Yet he felt lighter than he had in months. The man was a father.

Finally, finally.

His bag was agape. The zipper had broken long, long ago, yet a replacement had seemed, at the time unnecessary. It cost little, but was far more than he could afford to spare.

A grey stubble was forming on his chin, his clothes were faded, worn thin.

Like his mind.

But soon. Everything would be alright soon.

The train arrived, screeching to a sudden halt. There was a rush to get into the train.

A little push, an elbow in the ribs.

A little tug on his bag.

Four stops. He knew where he was going. He had gone far too many times in the last year.

He smiled. A small, crooked smile. Relief. Nobody else on the train noticed his quiet joy.

And when he reached the hospital, there she was! His little girl. Pale white, beautiful blonde hair like her long gone mother. Wired up to two intravenous tubes, breathing from an oxygen mask. Breathing solely because of the oxygen mask.

The payment, sir? It's been two months.

Finally, finally.

Yes, yes I have it.

The man's voice had rusted. He never had anyone to talk to anymore. No one to sing lullabies to. No one to tell stories to.

His bag was agape.

Empty.

I had it, the man muttered. I had it, right here.

He forced the bag open. It ripped slightly at the rims.

Sir, please.

I had it. I had it. Please.

Empty.

Sir... I'm sorry, but-

No, no no. I must have dropped it somewhere, I must have.

Empty.

Sir, she doesn't have much time left.

No.

Empty.

That night, a father became just another man.

No one was there to hear the man's regretful cries.

One. One small mistake.

The fifty dollar note was in another man's bag. It was one of many. It was tucked safely in a small, zipped compartment. This man lives on others' mistakes, and is careful not to make any.

[[A/N: Something I wrote a little while ago when I first wanted to try writing a very detached narrative that wasn't in second person. I fear it might have been a little confusing for you, so do let me know if it's so much so that it takes away from the story... It's alright to me, but then I wrote it, so...]]