Rusted heartstrings

Jimmy was tired.  4.a.m and he departed his country cottage to make it to the port with his first cargo of the day, the long-awaited computer parts. Computer factories didn’t want to be left waiting. Competitors can worm their way into that time lag and beat you to it.

Jimmy loved the dawn quiet on the motorway. Just a few early birds like himself making their first trip of the day. An occasional flash  of glaring headlights pierced the  darkness. Settling comfortably into the driving cab, he was ready for the two- hour journey. A four a.m start meant an early return home, at least by noon.

A siesta, and Jimmy would be ready to  join his pals for a game of boules in the park. Deep down he knew he would not be joining his pals for boules. He hadn’t done that since Marge had passed away.

Returning home by noon Jimmy pulled  into his gravelled driveway and  turned the key in his front door. How he missed his beloved Marge. Marge had departed this life more than two years previously, yet he never fully adjusted to being a widower. Often, he began a conversation with his beloved as he stepped inside the hall door.

‘Eh, Marge, guess what Smithy told us at lunch?’

But silence reigned within the walls and Jimmy recoiled at the prospect of having no one to share his thoughts. A shiver ran down his spine. He wondered, yet again, how long it was going to take to adjust to the reality of his new single status. Often, he didn’t mention it to new colleagues. He felt more comfortable with the idea of being a married man. It was too complicated to deal with. And besides it would draw unwanted sympathy or even  phony expressions of sympathy. Both of these he could do without.

One evening in early spring  as the sun set a little later, Jimmy began to weep bitterly. A long night stretched ahead, unbroken by human company. He finally succumbed to his friend, Tim's suggestion to try a dating app and find a companion. Jimmy’s hand trembled as he tapped the keyboard. He and Marge had forty years of mostly wedded bliss. He dreaded the prospect of modern-day dating with all its instant attraction and serial split- ups.

His phone pinged. It was his old buddy Tim, wondering if he had found a pretty girl yet on the app search. It made Jimmy smile. Still, it stirred his old rusty heartstrings into life.

Who could tell what might happen next?

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