Looking in the mirror

SHORT STORY:

One afternoon, some years ago, I took a stroll through the park behind us here in Chiswick. After a while it started to rain so I ducked under the trees to take shelter and let the shower blow through.

Sitting on a log near by to my left was a middle aged man with a woollen hat and spectacles, looking into what looked like a small compact mirror. I couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was doing and watched closely. As if on cue, he looked up and smiled. "Wondering what I'm doing, I expect," he stated rather than asked.

"Well, yes, I was," I replied, trying hard not be embarrassed for having obviously stared too hard.

"I'm watching the squirrels up that tree behind me," he paused. "If I stare at them  directly they become scared; but if I just sit here and pretend not to see them they approach on their own terms."

Not knowing how to respond, I just nodded.

After a few more minutes of rain and silence, he laughed. "You don't believe me do you?"

"Well .... actually I do find it a bit ...."

He laughed again. "Yes - you got me there! No actually I was sitting here wondering what I look like and thought that this was as good a spot as any to stop and look at myself."

"Of course," I responded, hoping like hell not to sound alarmed or worse still, taken-in by his ruse.  "So what do you look like?"

"Aah - now that is the question, isn't it? Well ..." he paused again, " what I see is a silly old fool who had someone he loved to bits but took for granted, a lover he didn't love but took for granted and, now what's taken me for granted is this ... " he turned towards me so that I could see the unmistakeable dark purple and red rash of a sarcoma that started across the left side of his face and disappeared down his neck behind his shirt collar.

"I'm so ..."

"Sorry? Don't be! This is the price of my thoughtless self indulgence. And now that the rain has stopped, please be off and leave me with my mirror and ....." he didn't finish, but resumed staring into the small mirror.

I stammered a quick good-bye and walked on.

It rained again today and this afternoon, caught by a passing shower, I stopped under what i think was the same tree. Whilst staring into the rain-sodden shrubbery, I could swear something like a warm hand gently touched my neck and brushed past my left cheek. I turned quickly, but all that was there was a grey squirrel blowing its cheeks and flicking its tail impatiently on the branch about three feet behind me.