Grapes

There is was; blemishing the potential of something so valued for its use. A red basket deemed useless, dirty. A single grape, squashed and alone, defeating the purpose of the basket in which it sat. Disgusted, Mr Donaldson lifted the basket in order to reach another one- a “grape-less” one- a clean one. He quickly moved on towards the aisles. There was a task at hand, and Mr Donaldson knew how to complete a job on time. He was a man of efficiency, a man of purpose, and had no time for distractions or anything of the sort. As he walked, focused completely on what had to be done, a man in his early thirties bumped him on his way past. The man did not offer any sort of apology, in fact he continued on as if nothing had happened. He sighed. How different things had become in only a few short years. “Hey Charlie, how’s the wife'” He gave a firm handshake and a warm smile before sitting down at his desk and opening his laptop computer. Fifty-four new emails “busy busy busy... always work to be done mate, ‘fraid I don’t have time for a chat” He picked up the phone. “Jenny darling, can you book me a flight to Brisbane, there’s a conference next week, I’ll send you the details now...” He reached into the open fridge to grab a carton of milk. As he did, his hand brushed against one that contrasted his own worked and wrinkled one, a hand that was many years younger and much smoother than his. The gold ring on her finger... could it be' He looked up to see the familiar face of Julia. He smiled and opened his mouth ready to great an old friend when she hurried off; placing the milk in the trolley she was pushing. It had not been Julia at all, just a mother providing for her family. Mr Donaldson knew that she would soon be returning home to her family. He looked down at his shopping list, only a few more items. He too would soon be returning to his apartment. But there was no one waiting for him there. He knew that he would have received no emails through the course of the day, and that any attempts to listen to his answering machine would by pointless because no one would have called. The lifestyle he had been accustomed to for so long no longer existed. He was now alone. “Here’s to Charlie, for the years of dedication and loyalty to the office. Of course, there’s no way the company would have even made it without all his input and years of hard work. But also to the good times, not only is Charlie a good boss, but a good friend. And a bloody good drinker! We all thought you were invincible, and never once did we think this day would co, but alas, here it is. You’ve worked hard and earned some decent relaxation time. Go out there and enjoy it mate!” The champagne flew and the cheers and laughter begun... He was now in the produce section. Mr Donaldson had always liked grapes, and every Thursday when he went shopping, it was guaranteed that he would return home with a bunch of them. He picked up the largest and juiciest looking bunch he could find, and inconspicuously popped one into his mouth. They’d do fine. He carefully placed the grapes into the basket he was carrying. As he walked towards the next aisle, he noticed a man from his past. He walked up to the man and greeted him. Alejandro was a young man who had just started working in the office when Mr Donaldson had left. They never became close friends, but he had always been comfortable conversing with him. Alejandro met Mr Donaldson with a firm handshake and they shared a polite conversation, but as the men set off in opposite directions the cold fact sunk into his heart. Mr Donaldson realised that he was no longer a part of the society he once was- the society he had given the past thirty years of his life to had left him behind... It took him an hour to finally leave the office for the final time. Carrying a box full of his books, stationary and several other nick-nacks he had kept in his office, Charlie couldn’t help but fear the next chapter of his life that had finally come. He hadn’t felt this way for thirty-odd years... since he walked through these doors for the first time. Around every corner, there were work colleagues giving their best wishes and farewells, congratulating him of his new freedom, but freedom from what' To live a life of complete independence is to live a life of meaningless bliss, where nothing is eternal and everything indicating a fleeting lack of commitment. The only obligation Charlie now had was to death. He gave the cashier a smile as he walked up to the checkout, but she didn’t even acknowledge his existence. He felt both invisible and scrutinised as she scanned and bagged the items, still not bothering to make conversation. “Thirty-two dollars fifty cents,” The words came out of a corporate machine. There was no possibility of the human interaction that Mr Donaldson longed for. He woke up at 5:30, like he had done so for as long as he could remember. His body knew no different as for years he worked to the beat of the same routine. Every day, at the same time, he would follow a plan he had created for himself. For years this routine was all he needed, and deep down inside, all he really knew. Now as he looked in the mirror, he no longer saw a man. He saw a character, which after retiring had lost its very purpose in life. He was pulled down by the weight of a void within himself that had caused his whole being to collapse. He was left with a blemishing reminder of who he once was. He placed his basket on the pile, and as he picked up his two plastic bags Mr Donaldson noticed something. A single grape, squashed and alone, was sitting in the basket. He had left no mark throughout his journey through the supermarket, except for this- just another unusable basket, and why' Because no one could be bothered with such an inconvenience. Why would anybody bother with an old, dirty basket when there plenty of perfectly good ones available' Mr Donaldson left the store and slowly headed down the street, staring as far off into the distance as he possibly could.