Discrepancies

• Sarah Campbell, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2022

Checking his account balance and stocks app was a staple of Nathan’s morning routine. It gave him the same satisfaction as wearing his blazer or admiring his gleaming wristwatch. But nothing could beat driving in his jet-black Porsche—his motivation to work.
***
Stopping in the parking lot, Nathan glanced left. 'Dammit, forgot my phone'. He looked right. Sitting on the street corner bench was the man who was always there: bony, decrepit, hair overgrown. Every morning he played tunes on a blue ocarina to shoo the boredom away, and every evening, looking slightly more lifeless, he wrapped up in his tattered excuses for blankets. 'He’s got to be the saddest man in Sydney', Nathan thought.

Crossing the road, Nathan pressed his lips together, feeling around his pockets. The man was going to ask him for money again.

“’Scuse me sir, would you-”

But before hearing a “thank-you, sir”, Nathan emptied some pitiful change into the man’s hat and strode brusquely onwards.
***
At work, every “friend” of Nathan’s greeted him with a grin plastered on their face, which Nathan reciprocated reflexively. His colleagues caught up on weekend happenings and the business party to come that night. Meanwhile, Nathan began work at his desk. Though he enjoyed telling people about where he took his car, or the wines he had tasted, talking about such hollow things left him distracted for the rest of the day. Only once had he related to someone personally: James Green, a high school friend who Nathan thought about occasionally.
***
Nathan had clocked off from work an hour early, and the sun began to set. Sitting in his Porsche, he turned the keys to the ignition. No response. He tried again. Same result. In disbelief, he stepped out, slammed the door, and held his hands behind his head. Maybe I could…ask someone to call a towing service for me. If it was in him to publicly shame himself, maybe he could’ve. Disgruntled, he began walking home. So much for the business party.

In a city so populous, it was unfathomable that loneliness was achievable. But reality was revealing itself to Nathan: possessions, capital, and all, he was poor. Sighing, he checked his golden watch. Spirit and sound faded as he walked ahead to the saddest street corner in Sydney. 'That man needs food. It’s the least I can do'. He had long forgotten about the business party.

A heap of worn blankets laid on the street corner bench, strangely, without a homeless man huddled beneath them. Nathan surveyed the area in all its emptiness. His face assumed a listless stare met with a cycle of green, orange, and red lights. A repetitive “blip…blip…blip…” invaded his ears. A twinge of guilt struck his chest.
***
He uncovered the blue ocarina and inspected it, finding a pair of initials inscribed on the back. ‘JG’.
***
Nathan’s long walk was finally over. He removed his wrinkled blazer, replaced his phone with a blue ocarina, checked his stocks app, and called a towing service.