Strength in One


I have a neighbor, who is a gentleman,  who is also inflicted with Parkinson’s. When I first moved here, some hinted to stay clear of him, because he was weird.

I am usually one who listens, but then have to decide for myself.  I knew he lived alone. I don’t know if he has ever been married or has children. 

One evening I enjoyed a treat I had made. After supper dishes were done, I looked at how much goodies I still had. I instantly thought of the man next door. 

I put my shoes on and with token of friendship,  I knocked on his door.  After waiting a few minutes,  the door opened and he invited me in.

I wasn’t afraid. Normally I wouldn’t step over the threshold but I knew I was safe.

I handed him my food gift and a friendship was born. Since that day, I have taken him food gifts at times. I may visit him more but he is rarely home.

I have watched him exercise.  I know he is a retired mechanic.  I have observed his brilliant mind as he shows me his creative inventions. He is polite and very knowledgeable about life and politics.

You know why people say stay clear of him? Because he wobbles and falls. He sounds like a race horse when he walks.  He somehow rides a small scooter. He is strength in one,  fighting to keep and live his life.

If there are errors on words and punctuation on my short story,  please forgive me,  I am writing this from my cellphone. 

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