Construction Story
Matthew Ryan Fischer
The construction site wasn’t much of a construction site. It didn’t look like anything had been done in
a long long time. There were some piles
of dirt and some of the land had been flattened. Someone somewhere at sometime must have had a
plan.
It had been raining all day.
Water was collecting in some of the pockets of excavated earth. There were some metal rods with orange flags
attached indicating something that was supposed to happen or be built. The metal had long since rusted. The piles of dirt were growing weeds. A temporary fence had been erected around the
entire site, but whole sections had tipped over and no one had made any effort
to fix them.
It was supposed to be the future and now was just a waste of
energy and money. It looked like the
world’s worst dirt park with no features or amenities for visiting families and
friends.
Nearby at a bus stop a lone man sat on a bench, gazing out over the
open plot and the promise that it once held. The man was older, somewhere in
his late fifties. His face was worn and
wrinkled from have seen too much sun.
His skin had a dark tan and an unnatural leathery texture. His hair was silver and grey and he wore a
dark Stetson cowboy hat.
A younger man approached.
“You gonna sit here all day?”
The older man didn’t reply.
“This rain is driving me nuts.
How does it not bother you?”
The older man shrugged, and then finally turned.
“This makes me sad. I like
seeing things built. This… this is just
terrible.”
“Yeah that’s great. But
seriously, can we get out of this?”
The older man didn’t move.
“I always liked working with my hands. To build something is to really understand
something. Now people just take the easy
way out.”
“How many days a week you come and do this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Too many. That’s how many.”
“Just look at it and think about it and try to appreciate what you’re
seeing. That there is potential. Lost potential. Man came and built that. Or tried to make something. There is a world that can be built with the
proper foundation. Now nature is gonna
win.”
“I know you miss her—“
“Shut up.”
The younger wanted to say something more, but pressed his teeth
into his tongue. He took a depth breath
and sat down.
They sat there together and looked out at the failure of a construction
site. Neither man said anything for a
long long time.
After a while the older man reached down and took his son’s hand
in his and held it.
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