Out of the Window

Damien | 20/06/2011

He looked out the window and howled. Surely this couldn't be happening, not after all he had been through to get to where he was now.

It had taken him years of fighting to achieve his dreams, and now he could see them dying in front of him. What had he done to deserve this? Surely if there was any justice in the world this travesty, this abomination, would not be happening.

But he was a rational guy and so he trusted what he was seeing before him, even if he really didn't want to believe it was true.

He thought of all the battles he had fought over the last few years. The arguments with a seemingly endless procession of bureaucrats, the reams of almost unintelligible paperwork.

And for what?

He sat and pondered the unflinching unfairness of life, and wondered what he had done, who he had upset in a past life that was now in a position of importance high enough to heap countless varieties of misery upon him.

His life, which should have been so wonderful, was in tatters in the street before him. It made no sense. How could something like this even happen? Surely there were laws against such behaviour, and if there weren't, there bloody well should be.

A noise behind him caused him to turn from the window, tears in his eyes from the sight that had captured his attention so vividly for the last 10 minutes or so. It was his wife, coming in from the kitchen where she had been making lunch.

Seeing the look of anguish on his face, she walked over the window in order to see for herself what had caused his state of melancholy. He knew, even before she was close enough to see what had happened, that she wouldn't understand. She was a woman, after all, and although she was bright enough in her own way, this was something that was beyond the comprehension of any woman.

It was a man thing, and so he was not even remotely surprised when she told him to pull himself together and stop blubbering like an idiot. She just didn't get it. It wasn't her fault, women just weren't programmed to understand things like this.

He turned back to the window, tears now streaming down his face. It had taken him almost 4 years to do it, but finally, after all the red-tape and bureaucracy, he had achieved his goal.

He owned the only Ferrari in the country.

And some bastard had just driven over it with a tank.

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