Writing in Reverse-The Story of Mr. Jones

This post is a response to a photo taken by Bill Sullivan. Bill Sullivan took photos of people passing through the gate to the subway station. The rest of the photos can be found at
http://www.3situations.com/BillSullivanWorks/MTmaster.html

The Story of Mr. Jones

Edward Jones was not a unique individual. He stood out in absolutely now way. He never traveled. He never had an extraordinary career. Mr. Jones was very plain. He did what a normal retired accountant should. Every morning he would wake up, eat breakfast, bathe, and get dressed. Then he would go to the park and read the paper. Occasionally he would play chess. When he was ready to go home, Edward Jones would take the subway back to his block. This had been the life of Mr. Jones for the past fourteen and a half years. Nothing adventurous. Nothing grand. Just life.

That is until last Wednesday when during a friendly game of chess, Mr. Jones collapsed. The stranger opposite Edward rushed him to the hospital. Edward Jones awoke in a hospital bed in an empty room. He called for a nurse. The nurse told him to rest, but Mr. Jones insisted on seeing a doctor. Moments late a tall young man entered the room. The doctor informed Edward Jones that he had been diagnosed with cancer. He would be free to check out after completing some paper work. The doctors told Mr. Jones to take it easy and enjoy the last few months of his life. The cancer had already spread and there was nothing more they could do to suppress it. Mr. Jones went home that night and went straight to bed, but he did not sleep.

Edward awoke the next morning weary. He put on his brown suit. It was an ugly grotesque suit, but he didn't care. He didn't even bother straightening his tie. As Edward Jones headed out the door, he reached for a hat to wear. It was a special hat. It was given to him by the same person who gave him the suit, Alan Crowe. Alan had passed away only four years ago. He was not a particularly close friend of Edward's. But Alan was the friend Mr. Jones saw most frequently. Alan Crowe died of liver cancer. Mr. Jones thought about Alan as he passed through the gate at the subway station. He thought about what would happen to himself. He had contemplated death before; what old man hasn't. However, Edward Jones had no family with whom to spend his last days. Nor anyone whom he could give his possessions. He was not lonely, however, he was in fact alone.

Edward Jones was very sidetracked as he passed through the gate. He had only his ticket with him. No newspaper. No book. Nothing. He was too distracted with his thoughts. He thought to himself on the subway. He thought to himself in the park. Mr. Jones was so unfocused that he missed his stop on his way home. It did not bother him to walk an extra two blocks. He sat at home in his chair. It was late. A single tear rolled down his cheek. Now Edward Jones was not an emotional man but he did worry about the grim future ahead of him.