Alone

It happens like that sometimes. He was one who did not really expect that much. Life had let him down a great deal and he expected more of the same. There is not much any of us can do when fate twists and tangles the threads of our lives. Perhaps we expect too much, spend too much time looking for order and patterns.

He thought about so many things, so many times when he could have done something, said something, differently… that there was some way that his life could have changed. He felt, now that he was older, that his life should have more shape, more significance.

Yet, he was alone still. If he died in some accident, he felt he would not be long mourned, or long missed. Only if the accident was rare or unusual would he have a chance of lingering in people's minds.

His job, such that it was, was of no great significance or import. Anyone of only moderate intelligence could perform the routine tasks with a modicum of training. In fact when he was away, ill or on leave, other people could cover for him without anyone else knowing, or even caring, that the job was not being done by him.