Like One Way Glass. – Short story.

“Can’t you do anything?” Screamed a lady in the supermarket at her son. He appeared to be about Twelve or Thirteen and his face was flushed, presumably with embarrassment. 

It appeared that she had forgotten to get an item of shopping and standing at the checkout she’d sent her son off for it only for him to return with the wrong thing. 

I wanted to go up to her and tell that it was her mistake, that she was the one who had forgotten it in the first place and she had displaced her anger at herself onto her son. 

I wanted to put my arm around that poor boy and say, “Never mind, there is nothing wrong, we all make mistakes sometimes and it was really your Mum’s fault for not being specific enough about what she wanted.”

That is the trouble with being a behavioural psychologist. Everywhere you go you see people behaving in a way that imprints negative psychoses on each other. 

“Why can’t we encourage each other instead of tearing each other apart?” He said to himself. 

Dr. Edwardes left the supermarket with his shopping, loaded it into his car and drove off. 

Arriving home he called out for his wife before he remembered she wasn’t there any more. 

That was why he was doing the grocery shopping, that was something she normally did. She enjoyed shopping. He never had, but now he had to do it himself.

He missed her.

If only he had told her how much he’d appreciated her. Then perhaps she wouldn’t have gone off with the pet groomer. He realised looking back how self-absorbed he’d been. How much time he’d spent looking at everyone else like a psychological puzzle that he hadn’t been paying attention to his own life. 

Mrs Evans, across the road, was looking out of her bay window as Dr. Edwardes arrived home with his shopping. He had that vague look about him he always has. Even more so of late.

“He doesn’t look very well, if you ask me.” She said.

“I could see his marriage was breaking down. His poor wife always looked so sad. He neglected her terribly. Strange that he couldn’t see how much time she was spending at the pet groomers. How happy she looked after she’d been there with her pet poodle. It was as plain as the nose on his face that she was beginning to look else where for the affection she wasn’t getting at home. That’s the thing with these doctors. They don’t see what’s under their own noses.”

She sat down on the sofa, her five minutes of excitement at seeing one of the neighbours had passed. She put the television on, that usually distracted her from the fact that she had no one to talk to, except herself. 

The world is full of problems and they are easier to see looking out than looking in. Like one way glass. You should see my Life! I am sure people looking at me could see all my issues and problems far clearer than I can. I’ll muddle through anyway though. I’ll even manage a smile. 

Keep Smiling. No one’s perfect.

The End


Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 23/April/2018