Different Folk
Trevor sat alone on a bench in a park. He was watching people moving around, playing and running. Only a few people sat alone; they were either reading or writing. He wondered if there was anyone among the people that was like him. He couldn’t really understand himself. He felt there was something different about him. If not from others around but from his siblings. His father had called him several times to ask if there was something he needed to tell him. He said he noticed he was entirely different from his siblings and from other members of his extended family.
“I’ve compared you with your siblings. I’ve searched the entire extended family. I see you to be immensely different. You don’t act when others are acting. You don’t follow the trends in the family. You are not pressed for time. If you weren’t my child, at times I would wonder if you belong to this family.” These words of his father still hunt his mind. They ring like a bell in his head.
He needed no soothsayer nor sage to tell him there was something different about him. How would he explain to his father that he could feel people’s travails? How would he explain to his father that his mind is a battlefield, a cauldron of mixed thoughts? How would he explain to his father that he feels he is connected to some people?
He was engrossed in his thoughts, unaware that someone had sat beside him.
“Do you know you’re unique, a special breed?” the person asked.
“How?” he asked, not looking at who was talking.
“Your abilities. Your heightened senses. Your mind power.”
“No. My mind is a complete mess. How do I separate the real from the unreal?”
“You can! You were born for it. You were born to do it.”
“Oh! It’s an uphill task.”
“You can. Trust me.”
He turned to see who was talking. He didn’t see anyone. He was sure he felt someone’s presence. He felt the person’s weight on the bench.
Comments without a personalized avatar will not be published.
To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleYour story is very intriguing, Thompson. The questions also never left my mind, who was that man who spoke and sat beside him on the bench? Is there any? Good story. I liked it so much. Good job.
Thank you, Lotchie. Should I say it was a guardian angeI in human form that sat beside him. I’m grateful that you like the story.
You’re welcome, Thompson. I see.
Comments without a personalized avatar will not be published.
To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleWhat comes through so strongly in your story Thompson is the loneliness that stems from being different and the angst your protagonist is feeling. You have described it so well. The voice he hears not only explains to us his destiny but also that he is not alone in his struggle. And there is comfort in that. There is so much potential here and I hope you will expand on this story… Read more »
Thank you, Linda. I’m glad you understand the theme of the story. I indeed love your dimension to it. I’ll be glad to expand on the story given the time and ambience. I must admit, writing and running a paid job is tasking.
Thompson, hats off to you for writing such great stories while you’re holding down a paid job. I love the way your mind works. Those who don’t belong to the “normal” world have an even better world just waiting for them. On a park bench. In dreams. Everywhere.
Comments without a personalized avatar will not be published.
To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleThank you, Fuji for the credits and for relating to the story.
Yes, as Lotchie mentioned, a very intriguing story and at first, before he heard the voice, I wondered if he was neurodiverse or if he had some empathic powers. Now that you’ve said he had a guardian angel beside him, I’d go with the latter ????
Yeah! Thank you for liking the story.
Comments without a personalized avatar will not be published.
To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleThis is a very interesting story Thompson and one that has great potential for extending. I felt very sorry for your protagonist at the beginning of the story, thank goodness that he has a guardian angel to help him. I have a guardian angel in my story too, if it gets shortlisted. Mine’s the MP though. Nicely done.
Thank you, Carrie. I can’t wait to read yours. What’s the meaning of MP?
Mine has been early shortlisted now too, so is available to read. MP is short for main protagonist 🙂
Comments without a personalized avatar will not be published.
To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleWow! Great news.
Good job, Thompson. I enjoyed this story very much.
Thank you, Juma.
Comments without a personalized avatar will not be published.
To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleAn empath revealing himself… it’s a fantastic beginning for a much longer story. One can’t help wondering who the young man really is and why he is so different from others around him. I can sense his dismay at realising about his ‘gift’, bringing up wonder and fear at the same time. I’d love to know who the person sitting beside him is… a ghost? Friend or foe? Someone sent to help… Read more »
The person that sat beside him was his guardian angel. A helper and a revealer. Thank you for liking my story.
Thompson, I felt so sad for your protagonist at first, until I read why he was different and thought of the good he can do with his gift. I liked the idea that he didn’t bother to look up at who was talking to him, at first. Almost like he was so desperate for answers or help, that it didn’t matter to him where it came from. I read your comments and… Read more »
Comments without a personalized avatar will not be published.
To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleThank you, Marianna, for liking my story.