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In the snack-bar.

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English Coursework In the snack-bar It is a horrific August evening and I am abandoned once again in the gloomy darkness of my life. The rain is pelting off the cap on my head and trickling down my face. I can feel the water running down my spine. I hear cars roaring by and the polluted water splashing up onto the footpath on which I am standing on. I am waiting patiently and unaccompanied at the bus stop, as I frequently do on a Wednesday night. Out of the confusion of my mind I hear a young women's voice saying that the bus is on its way, and I listen to the hiss of the bus doors opening. I wave my trustworthy stick to guide me off the curb and onto the bus. The young woman spoke for a second time, but this time she was talking directly to me, I could hear the pity in her voice as she asked me if I would like her to lead me onto the bus. I step my foot gradually off the curb and onto the bus. I recognize the driver's voice, it is an affectionate voice and it always put me in a satisfactory frame of mind when a normal human being has a compassionate tone of voice. ...read more.


I apologized and built up the courage to stagger on. The waiter strolls over to me and asked me if I was ready to order. I order the same serving of food every week. I dislike trying new items, as I would not go though the humiliation of asking someone to read the menu to me. I could feel my bladder filling up and to my dread I realise I was going to have to ask a stranger. I am a proud man, but I am not capable of going by my self down the stairs. I fumble to get to my feet and as I am about to stand up I knock over the cup, which was sitting on the table. My heart leaps into my throat and is pounding like a jackhammer against my adams apple. As the cup collides with the floor the caf´┐Ż went still. As I loom over the table an unfamiliar person strolls over to me and asked me would I like help My throat went dry and my words came out in a hesitant stutter"I-I-need-to-g-go-to-th-the-toilet-co-could you-pl-please-t-take-me"? The man did not answer and I thought he had tiptoed away, but then he hesitantly said, "Grab my arm and I will take you". 3 I clutch the man's arm and feel the muscles in his arm tensing; he seems to be taller than me. ...read more.


We turn around and slowly walk towards the sinks. He turns on the water tap and directs my hand to the basin. I tenderly and dependently rub my hands together-they are powerless. Andrew rubs the soap into my hands as I do not have the strength to do it myself. I rub my hands beneath the running water to dispose of the soapy substance. He gently grips my arm and leads me over to the hand dryer. I can feel the oppressive, hot, and hard blowing air weighing down my hands and the water running down the palm of my hand and trickling off my fingertips. We stagger back towards the doorway leading up to the stairs. We walk slowly up the stairs I apologizes to him for the inconvenience that I have caused him. But he replies he is glad to help him me and I had no need to apologize. At long last we arrived at the top of the stirs. I thanked him again as he moved off to join his friends. I sat down on my seat thinking about how my sight affects me. It is like I am trapped in a nightmare with no way out. The only colours I can commit to memory are the ones from my childhood. Even they are gradually fading away to white and black. I wonder why Christ made me for this, my life has no purpose. As I sit and muse Laura Davis ...read more.

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