Ten Fingers

The evening live news came on the tv, Ronald sat in his armchair, his wife sandy had sadly passed away some time before. He believes she died from anxiety and the lost of HOPE, but the doctors state otherwise. He wasn't allowed to be with his wife in her last days due to the pandemic/ lockdown, she was all alone and so was he. Ronald got up to go to the kitchen and make himself a cup of tea, he saved all of his teabags since last year, reused them over and over, too afraid to go out, sandy and Ronald would always go to the store together, always! his hair had grown white as chalk and the clock seemed as if it didn't work, it always stayed at 5 o'clock, in the evening, it was dark, cloudy and pouring down with rain that sounded angry, just roaring. Ronald had come out of the kitchen and sat back down in his armchair, the news was still on, the news reader was wearing a face mask, Ronald couldn't understand or hear what he was saying, so he just sat there. The sun shone in the morning as if nothing was happening, as if it was a normal sunny day, Ronald peeped out of his kitchen window and just like yesterday, no one was out, just the birds squabbling over breakfast crumbs and discarded food stacked up outside people homes. Ronald sat down in his armchair and looked at the photo of him and sandy on their wedding day, how he would give anything to be back at one of the happiest days of his life, when the world was their oyster, their futures bright. His mug of tea was empty, he could not remember if he had drunk his tea or not, the morning news came on, subtitles and facemask, Ronald's hearing wasn't great, and his eyesight had deteriated a long time ago, sandy would tell Ronald what was being said when they watched tv together. Ronald looked at his hands, he started to count his fingers and thumbs,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10, that is the only thing he could do to know he was not dreaming, and that he was still alive. Now Ronald did not know what day of the week it was, what month, and what year, the days and nights seem to roll into one, the news gave no indication, except that the lockdown pandemic was still taking president over the world. He had not realized he hadn't had a bath for some time, not even brushing his teeth, everything was too painful since sandy, he got up and stood by the living room window and peeped through his curtains, nothing, not a living soul, no-one walking past and happened to spot Ronald and wave good morning to him, nothing, even the birds were scarce. An ambulance zoomed past sirens blaring, it brought back sad memories of sandy when she was carted off, never to be seen again, not even for her burial, it was just Ronald and the Chaplin, he had her cremated, couldn't remember where he put her ashes, looking in the small rectangle mirror above the gas fire, Ronald looked at himself, he didn't recognize this person, he looked at his hands and counted his fingers and thumbs 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10, he didn't even have a pet for company, he was allergic to animals with fur, the goldfish would die every other month, no children, just him and sandy. Sitting in his arm chair looking at the tv, not listening or watching any more, it was the same news every day, "PLEASE STAY HOME STAY SAFE" What if home wasn't safe anymore, it felt like he was in solitary confinement for a crime he didn't commit, his mind raced back to last Christmas, well one Christmas! he and sandy went to "Saint Paul de Venice" in the south of France, they both loved contemporary arts the galleries, the wine and cheese lunch was divine, he found himself smiling "oh they had such a wonderful time there, magical! He shuffled over to his spot, the armchair, the news was on the tv, it was quite outside not a sound as if he was the only living soul left on the earth, the only sound Ronald could hear was that of his heartbeat sometimes skipping a beat. My name is Ronald Gythe, I'm, well I'm not sure now, he said trying to bring some relevance to his existence. his brain seemed to reject the notion of remembering small things, only the happiest and saddest memories were all his memory could afford.  A shining light with sandy beckoning him to "come my love come" Ronald smiled as tears fell from his cheeks onto his lap, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10, Yes he was still alive, he leaned over the side of the chair to reach for the remote, maybe changing the channel to something else might bring him some company along with his constant companion loneliness, sadness, emptiness, not even the clock ticked anymore. He clicked the button on the remote, a beautiful scenery came on the tv, the sun was shining, the blue sky with not a cloud insight, Sandy appeared on the tv, beckoning to her husband “come my love come?” everything about her was golden, he stretched out his hand as if to touch her face, a newsflash interrupted the beautiful moment Ronald was having, He got up and went into he bathroom once there he completely forgot why he had come into the bathroom he stood there for a moment, he felt a warm sensation on his legs, he looked down and saw a puddle by his feet appearing from under  his trousers, he tutted and slowly walked into the living room and sat in his arm chair, staring at the tv, or the tv was staring at him, his thoughts neither here or there. He got up, he was sure the doorbell went, his heart beating fast, “coming Darling” he shouted out, shuffling along to open the front door, sandy always rang the doorbell when she came home from doing a few hours of voluntary work for the local charity shop, she just loved the way Ronald would greet her with a huge smile when he opened the door, she loved that.  He opened the door, no one there, he stood in the doorway and breathed in the air and cough, he slowly turned  and went indoors, he sat in his arm chair, the news was on, subtitles, facemask covering the newsreaders face, his stomach rumbled, his bones ached, he sat there and started to count his ten fingers, with each count  his breath became labored, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,