Swollen River

He had never seen the river so swollen. The footbridge itself was still passable, but all around the lands was sodden and puddle filled. The rain won't stop falling for a while yet. 

In the morning the situation was sure to be much worse. How he would make it back and forth to buy the groceries worried him. At least no one depended on him, that was comforting, but then again it disheartened him too. It wouldn't be so bad if someone needed some milk. Some excitement is what the place needs now and then.  

In the cafe the familiar mid-afternoon regulars were situated like statues. The cheapest coffee for the cheapest people. He liked to believe he was a cut above. But he knew he was just as destitute, just as decrepit. What awful flatulence, still company at least. He took pride in knowing he still had all his faculties, no mobility scooter, or zimmer, those days were not even on the horizon he thought. 

His eyes studied the seating as he entered. A good seat by the window. Studying the seating, scrutinising it, seeing who was where and who wasn't and ruminating on why they weren't. it was a past time. A pursuit for those idol in thought, dressed in sacks for bodies. 

The drama of it all, the face he knew, the menu he knew, the route, the river, and the routine. This supermarket cafe, this is all there is. For him and them it was all they had to occupy their minds and their time, it was their space to fill, to themselves feel like they had lives, to make the staff feel like they were doing someone a favour. 

What it was he knew, they all knew. But no one brought it up. A library without books, a Starbucks without the prices, a community centre that sold food! He knew his cleverness was too much for them, yet deep down he was inseparable from it, from them, from that walk across the river.