By Kismet

Ariel Fitzpatrick: Do you believe in the present being the most important thing in life? Or do you think the future is? I never really understood any of it, really. Today was yesterday's tomorrow but it was also tomorrow's yesterday. If putting everything into something so...temporary, what does that make your life? Will tomorrow ever truly come?

This is how I feel but I think if you believe in that, your life is meaningless or as insignificant as a stamp on a never opened envelope. And maybe that belief will also change with the season. But who really knows?



Rose sat timidly at the end of Georgia's bed, staring into her now more melancholy face. The news didn't seem to faze her and if it did, she did a very good job of hiding it. When Rose came in last night, she saw Georgia sitting up in bed, looking at nothing in particular. Poor Alejandro was passed out on the living room couch and a sense of forlorn hung in the crispy, winter air. Somehow, things have changed since she left this morning. The apartment might've looked the same but Rose knew better; their lives were now balanced ontop of a pivot.

"Georgia, I am so sorry!" Rose apologized for the umpteenth time, hoping her guilty would lessen the more she said it. Not only did she have no job, she got Georgia fired from the back up job she thought she had. Georgia put up a weak hand in protest. She didn't blame Rose but fate and even if she still had a job, in her situation, it was only a matter of time before she retired anway.

"But--" Rose tried to say but clamped her mouth shut when Georgia shook her head.

"My dear girl," she spoke in a hoarse voice. "it's not a big deal." she paused to violently cough, which caused Rose to jump to her feet, frantically trying to do something to help, though she couldn't do a thing.

"You're sick, Georgia. Look at you!" she exclaimed as she tried to make her lie back down again. "Who is going to pay rent two weeks from now? And what about Christmas?" All the forthcomings were wearing Rose down. It seemed as though the life they once knew and thought as stable was coming to a much closer end than the year itself.

"Don't w-worry about that." Georgia whispered, struggling to keep her eyes open. "God will save us." she said in a small smile before she let the fight in her weaken, her eyes shutting at that very moment. Panicky, Rose felt a scream builded up which turned into a heavy sigh at the sight of the gradual rise of Georgia's chest.

For the next two days, Rose barely got in the previous four hour daily sleep and busied herself finding a job that could support her and her family. It was nearing Christmas by the day which meant not many people were hiring. It was unnecessary when their shops would all be closed for the holidays.

Still, Rose pushed on and didn't let up. She would find a job no matter what, even if it meant the longest hours and the most tedious of work. Family meant everything to her so it was worth it in the end. At least, that's what she told herself to keep her eyes on the prize.

I promise, Georgia, she vowed to herself, God the only witness to her oath. I'll do whatever it takes.

The end of the second day and Rose was slowly wavering. She walked with heavy-lidded eyelids and her heart would sink lower with every step she took towards the apartment.

"Give us an answer God." she said to the sky before entering. When she stepped inside, an excited Alejandro greeted her, his eyes alight with a foreign emotion. "Rose! Rose!"

Rose let him pull her dress as she put away her coat. "Yes?" she asked, placing her scarf on the couch. She hadn't seen the light that used to shine behind his gray eyes ever since the day Georgia fell ill. It was heart-wrenching to see such a small boy carry such a big grief in his innocent heart. She was grateful towards whatever it was that brought some of the life back into Alejandro's eyes.

"There's a man here!" he exclaimed, jumping like he was on ecstasy. Ridding her mind of that impossible thought (at least, she hoped it was impossible) she folllowed the bouncing boy into - surprisingly - Georgia's room.

Sitting on a stool perched to the left of the end of the bed's wooden post was a man, distinctively in his late stages of life. He wore a dark coat and a dark scarf around half his face. His eyes were masked by an eye glass that somehow made him look even older. His wrinkly skin hung around his eyes a little and it didn't take a genius to figure out he hadn't been sleeping much.

"His name is Thames!" Alejandro provided from where he sat cross-legged on the cold floor. Rose nodded her head meekly but her eyes were fixed on Georgia's pale face.

"Rose, is it?" The man asked, a gentle tone to his words. Rose tried to nod but the overpowering feeling inside of her forced her mouth to open.

"That's--what they call me here." she said around her pearly whites, trying desperately not to let her emotions show on her face.

"Aha." he said in reply, not pressing any further. "The name's Thames but I see that lad beat me to my own introduction." he supplied with a laugh, smiling with his eyes at Alejandro, who flashed his toothless smile in response.

"So why are you here?" she heard herself ask and hastily apologized for her rudeness. Thames brushed it off with a sweep of his hand and smiled a warmly before clearing his throat.

"Georgia is an old friend of mine." he said slowly, adding a "no pun intended." when Alejandro started to giggle behind his palm. Thames pressed a hesitant hand on the covers of the bed, placing it inches away from where Georgia's lay, unmoving.

"I've come to see how she's doing." he said and it was like a spell was cast inside the room. A steady silence befell the broken circle they had formed and Rose felt the need to break it down before her eardrums bled.

"Well...would you like a cup of tea?" she offered absent-mindedly, not sparing a moment's thought to how the cupboards bore naught but a few cobwebs.

"That's alright, ma'am." he politely declined, getting to his feet in a manner Rose was certain couldn't have been comfortable. "I must be on my way..."

For some reason, she felt the need to keep him here, not wanting to face this tragic feeling alone. Besides, he looked like he was in need of a warm home, she reasoned, watching him take a step towards her. Rose wasn't one to judge but when she had that feeling, when her insticts told her to go, by all means, she had to take that ride.

"If you'd like, you can stay..." she started saying, having absolutely no clue as to how that sentence should end. She watched him hesitate between moving past her and keeping his ground and knew her gut feeling wasn't a product of her hunger.

"That's very kind of you but I-I couldn't possibly." he fumbled, casting his eyes to the floor. His hung head and unfinished protest gave Rose all the more reason to persist.

"Nonsense!" she said lightly with a laugh. "Stay."

He smiled kindly and sighed. "If the lady insists."

Quickly setting up the couch for herself, Rose proceeded to make sure her room was comfortable enough for the kind gentleman that was Georgia's friend. It wasn't much but a man of his years needed something better than a lumpy old couch. He obviously has been through a lot, she thought, going back downstairs with a her self-proclaimed blanket.

"Why, this isn't needed!" Thames declared, walking out of Georgia's room. "The couch doesn't have to look pretty, dear." Rose laughed along with him, looking at her work. She had to hand it to herself, the couch almost looked comfy.

"I know that." she said amiably. "But imagination is a powerful tool." she reminded him, tapping her temples for effect. "I like to imagine it as a master bed, with laces and silk for covers!" she went on, her eyes getting brighter with the images that materialized in her head.

"Hold your horses, honey. I'm an old man." he replied logically. "Imagination, I'm afraid, dies with time." He tried grabbing for the extra blanket in her hands but Rose moved it out of his easy reach.

"Imagination doesn't die but gets lost somewhere in reality, hmm?" she remarked before pointing upstairs. "Now get to bed, Thames." she tried saying in a serious mother-like tone. "Bed bugs are waiting."

Instead of laughing along like before, Thames furrowed his eyebrows, blinking to see her face clearly in the poorly lit living space.

"Whatever do you mean, child? This couch is not meant for me?"

"Silly man! This is mine." she responded with gusto. "I called dibs!" She was once again the only one that found her statement funny. Thames, not sure what the word "dibs" meant - perhaps it was her name for the furniture, was his first guess - and choosing to ignore it, rejected her too kind offer.

"Nonsense! You're sleeping upstairs!"

About ten minutes into their argument on who got the couch, Rose grumpily went upstairs, wallowing in her loss. But she had to hand it to him. "I'm too old to climb up and down those stairs, woman!" comeback rendered her speechless. It was probably worse than the ache the couch would most likely cause the morning after, Rose figured walking into her room.

Throwing herself on her bed stomach forward, Rose let all the nagging thoughts evaporate, concentrating on the sliver of hope in her heart. With Thames here to help, she felt that not all was lost just yet. That there was still a chance to turn things around, to get back up on the horse of life.

She fell asleep smiling for the first time that week.


But tomorrow is a new day my friend.