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Epiphany

[Epiphany, 614 words, Genre: Realistic Fiction]

* Image courtesy of Dirk de Bruyn

Edward was sitting outside. On the verandah of a two storey building. Looking around the local vicinity. There were trees, all sorts of trees. Trees with bushtails, trees with flat leaves, trees that grew in such a fashion as to look like pillow cushions and trees that had branches that provided shade to the creatures that lived in the area. All sorts of trees and all sorts of things. The sun shone down on the area around them. Creating shadows that would move as the wind blew through the branches, creating an array of visual stimulation around them.

The trees did not speak, they whispered. They whispered the sound of a million leaves rustling.

And Edward, well, Edward smoked a cigarette. Waiting for something to happen; waiting for anything to happen. It was a menthol cigarette and each breath was a fresh one. Breathing in nicotine and surveying the landscape. The landscape that lay below him.

Edward had hair that was cut in an undercut fashion. His hair covered his eyes and as the wind kept on blowing, it kept on creating a mess of his hair. He would have to move the hair away from interfering with his line of vision. He did so with his free hand, the other hand clutching his menthol cigarette with his index finger and thumb.

There were all sorts of birds that flew around the area. That had made the area their home. Flying from branch to branch, looking for their mate so that they could engage with one another in a cloical kiss. Edward looked at it all, took it all in.

Then he sat down. He sat down in one of those lawn chairs. Those sort of lawn chairs that you would get from hardware shops for a cheap price. They were meant for outdoors, they looked ugly and when enough time passed they would break down from wear.

Edward was looking for something. Anything, really. Anything to starve off the boredom that had been all too encompassing in the daily sequence of his everyday life. Some sudden realization. Some epiphany.

He looked at his cigarette. He had smoked it to its butt. He stubbed it out on the ground and flicked it away off into the surrounding landscape. He was appreciating nature, but he wasn’t taking care of it. What was it that Edward was looking for? Would he find it? Would he ever find it?

He took out a twenty cent piece coin from out of his pocket. Felt around the edges. The edges with its filaments carved out. Each coin had been pressed in a machine. Each coin was flat with its picturesque icons imprinted on a smooth surface. He looked at the coin. Heads and tails. A picture of the English queen on one side and a picture of a platypus on the other.

He started flipping the coin. Flipped it once. Heads. Flipped it twice. Heads again. Flipped it for the third time and then it came up tails.

He sighed and placed the coin back inside his pocket. Then he just sat there. In his lawn chair, he just sat there. The birds flying around. The sun shining. The wind rustling the branches of the trees. He didn’t move for ten minutes, then twenty, then half an hour had passed. Time was becoming meaningless without someone watching the clock.

Then he crouched over his knees. Placing his upper body into a state where he could stare at the ground. He stared at the ground and then ruffed up his hair.

“That’s it! That’s it!”

Whatever Edward was attempting to find in his trains of thought, he had found it.

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