every day he went to work (2022)

short story | the literary platform

Every day he went to work in the attic of the house where he lived. He sat down at his desk and hoped that the words would come. He tried to ignore the sound of his son running about downstairs, or his baby daughter crying because she’d not had enough sleep. He checked emails, browsed the internet and stared at his phone. And when none of that helped he headed out for a walk.

He walked the same routes he had walked as a child, through the streets and the neighbourhoods he knew inside out. He walked past beautiful old buildings that had become shops he never went in and all the empty houses where his friends used to live. He walked past the place that had sold for six times what it was worth and saw no sign of life inside. Then one day the walls were pressure-washed and painted. A scrap of driftwood placed in the window. A grey plaque engraved with a website address. A key-safe screwed to the side of a gate.

People kept telling him it couldn’t continue. That one day it would crash and come tumbling down.

But the days became weeks became months became years. And nothing ever crashed just continued to rise.

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