Ten

• Sarah Asif, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2013

The alarm clock rang at ten a.m., waking Daniel Evans out of his recurring dream. Little did he know that after ten weeks of delay, precisely on Friday the tenth, his dream would become reality.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was lunch-time in the workplace and Daniel watched as a ten dollar note fell out of his lady-crush’s pocket and gracefully landed on the ground beside her.

Daniel strode towards her. “Excuse me?” he verbalised, his voice barely audible. “You dropped this.” He gestured naturally towards the ten dollar note.

The blonde-haired angel daintily turned her head as if it would fall off her very neck if she didn’t take much heed. “You can keep it,” she gesticulated then waved him off with a flick of her hand.

“No, it’s yours,” Daniel said bluntly and a little louder than he intended to. Then more politely, “Take it. Please.”

The young woman looked him squarely in the eyes, a jewel so rare it was the last of its kind. “If you insist,” she shrugged and reluctantly accepted what was righteously hers. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” he managed and seizing the moment, extended his palm and added, “Daniel Evans.”

She glanced down at his hand with a dismissive look, then thought better of it and extended her own. “Prefer to remain anonymous.”

“Prefer to remain anonymous,” Daniel articulated, “would you care to join me for some coffee?” Now he had her attention.

She smiled for a mere second and with a meticulous flutter of her long eyelashes, simply stated, “I don’t drink coffee, Mr Evans.”

His name sounded perfect in her mouth and even though his was dry from apprehension, Daniel was beginning to enjoy this welcoming war of words. “How about tea instead?” he offered, like she couldn’t afford a cup of tea herself.

“I’m on a sugar-free diet,” the tall blonde countered as she effortlessly removed a delicate lock of hair from her face. She took a pretentious step backward, indicating the desire to utilise her precious time elsewhere.

Dry-mouthed and half-desperate, Daniel blurted, “Water?”

At this, she giggled ever so subtly and showily mouthed, “I think I can manage that.”

Daniel watched her turn flawlessly and walk away, mouth agape.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ten years and ten kilometres down the track, Daniel raced to Balmain Hospital to visit his dying wife. His ten-month-old son gurgled in the baby seat behind his beating heart. It was probably beating ten million beats per minute. The emergency call he had received earlier echoed in his mind. ‘It’s critical.’

Once inside the hospital, Daniel ran to the information desk, breathless. Soon afterwards, he threw open a wooden door to find a doctor and three nurses, their heads bowed. He walked over to the hospital bed to see a gorgeous blonde in her early thirties, lying lifeless, her hand clutching the ten dollar note that had started it all.

He knew. He was ten seconds too late. And in the ten minutes that followed, Daniel Evans let the tears run unchecked.