The good life
By Fred Peyer
Is there anybody out there who can tell my why the fuck I am crawling along the freeway at fifteen miles an hour at six o’clock in the morning in a car that belongs to a bank just to get to a job I don’t like? A job that stresses me out, a job I slave in just to make enough money to pay for the goddamned car, the goddamned mortgage, and the alimony for my ex-wife? Am lucky to have a twenty left over after everything is paid for. And this is supposed to be the good life?
I just wish this nightmare would end.
That’s when the truck hit him! (The first hit)
He woke up in the hospital, after five days in a comma. At first he did not know anymore who he was, or what had happened, but over the next two weeks his memory slowly returned.
After being released from the hospital, he returned to his expensive high rise condominium for a few more weeks of recovery. With nothing else to do, he contemplated his life, his purpose, his everything. One day, he remembered it was a Wednesday, he sat up on the couch, looked around his expensively furnished condo, or at least the expensive few pieces of furniture his wife had left him after the divorce, when this monumental paradigm shift hit him. (The second hit)
The next day he quit his job, put his condo on the market, and put everything else for sale on Craig’s list. The car had been totaled in the accident and had been paid off by the insurance company.
After searching for a while, he found a room in a boarding house with a shared bathroom down the hall. The room was shabby, but clean, with worn curtains, a single bed, a formica topped table dating to the 60’s, and a small sink and cooking plate in a corner. Most important of all, it was cheap.
He bought a ream of paper, an old used Underwood typewriter, some white-out and a few more office supplies. Then he got to work on that novel he had wanted to write for more than ten years. Through some of his former contacts he secured a few advertising copy writing assignments that paid just enough for the cheap rent, some food and maybe a few extras.
The house where he rented his room stood only four blocks from Belmont Beach in Long Beach. After writing in the morning, he would hop on a used bicycle he had bought, and ride to the ocean front. Sometimes he would ride the bike along Shoreline Way up to the Marina Green Park, other times past Rosie’s Dog Beach all the way down to Alamitos Park. Anywhere along the ride he could stop, sit on the sand or a bench and look out over the water. It did not matter what he did, he always returned home refreshed, ready to write.
And he spent a lot of time at a neighborhood bar where the drinks were cheap and friends were plentiful. He was poor, but happy, doing what he liked, no worries, no pressure, no headaches.
One day, pecking away happily on that old machine, he stopped, looked out the window at the wall of the house next door, with a big smile spreading slowly across his whole face, and thought: This is the good life!
END
-
Author:
Alfred Peyer (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 13th, 2017 02:22
- Category: Short story
- Views: 40
Offline)
Comments5
Life in the slow lane can be so wonderful, retirement helps being this way.
Thank you Goldfinch! Yes, retirement can be great. I guess it all depends on what we make it.
A great read Fred - enjoyed this .
Thank you Michael, for reading and commenting. I really do appreciate it.
Good write Fred.
Thank you orchidee! Maybe you could write a short story about your KP marriage experiences. Or, maybe that would make an interesting novel!
It'll be about 10,000 pages of misery! lol.
brilliant, my friend.
Thank you Kevin! Would not call it brilliant, but for an early try it came out ok. See my answer to Kat's comment. But then, at my age I gladly take any compliment, deserved or not!
Everyone's dream who is caught up in the rat race ... well portrayed, Fred!
Thanks Louis, and for most of us a dream is what it remains, until maybe when we retire.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.