Unlucky Day

A short, thin, middle-aged man moved cautiously down the street, keeping away from the walls of the house. Nervously adjusting his glasses, he looked around as if looking for someone. It was pitch-dark outside, and not a single lantern was lit. The man reached into the pocket of his worn old coat to get a flashlight, only to find that there was a huge hole. He chaotically stuck his other hand into another pocket — another hole.

“Damn, when will this day end!” John thought to himself and wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead with his sleeve. Rubbing his eyes, he felt that they began to burn and became teary. He glanced down at his sleeve and saw that his coat was stained with some kind of white construction dust. “Where did she come from?” he thought to himself, trying to stop the tears. Seeing nothing in front of him, he felt the ground begin to slip from under his feet. Waving his arms, he flopped into the puddle. After waiting a few seconds, he began to cautiously stand up from the ground, inspecting himself. The coat was torn, the glasses were broken, and the handle of a manhole, which was slightly protruding from the ground, was to blame.

“Why do they make such big handles on them?” John was indignant again, adjusting the sleeve of his coat. While he was putting himself together, he heard something crackle on the roof of the house. He moved even further away from the walls and right in front of him, a cobblestone fell from the roof.

“It can't go on like this, I urgently need to find this tramp. Two more blocks and I should be there. I need to hold on just a little bit.”

After passing two more houses, he saw a man wrapped in several blankets, curled up on the ground.

"There you are!" John shouted angrily as he approached the tramp. A half-awaked man with one eye open carefully looked at John.

"Who are you?" asked the man.

“You cursed me!” John shouted, ignoring his question. The tramp, stretching on the ground, leaned his back against the wall of the house. He began to scrutinize John, and then broke into a smile.

“Ah, I remember you, it was you who humiliated me this morning,” the tramp said calmly. John began to blush with anger.

“Did I humiliate you? Because of you, my whole day is messed up!” John said angrily.

“Why do you blame me? My whole life is messed up, not just a day,” muttered the tramp.

“Yes, because you wished me a bad day in the morning!” John grabbed the tramp by the scruff of the neck, "Make it stop!"

“I can't, I didn't do anything!” the tramp started kicking, “You shouldn’t have insulted me and I wouldn’t wish you a bad day!”

“I didn’t insult you, I said it like it is — you are a slacker and don’t want to do anything, you sit and extort money from people instead of going to work!” John said.

“You don't know anything about me, but you draw such conclusions,” said the tramp, freeing himself from John's grip. “I didn’t extort money from you, I just sit and beg, without forcing anyone to help me. And you came up to me and started shouting that parasites and villains like me should be put in jail, you started insulting me, not even knowing how and why I ended up in this situation.”

“I don’t care why you ended up in this situation,” John growled, “You also harmed me, I’ve been unlucky all day today — when I came to work, I was fired. After that, a waitress poured hot tea on me in a café and I got burns,” John unbuttoned his coat and pulled up his T-shirt, exposing a reddened, shriveled belly, “Then I got robbed, and my apartment burned down because I forgot to turn off the stove! This is nonsense, this does not happen in real life! It's definitely a curse!"

The tramp smiled as he took a rumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. John, seeing a potential source of danger, frightened and took a few steps away from the tramp.

“What are you going to do?” John asked him nervously.

“I want to smoke. You didn't let me sleep, you insulted me again, you want from me something that I can't give you. To digest all this, I need a cigarette,” replied the tramp.

"You will kill me! Or at least cripple!” John tried to snatch the lighter from the hands of the tramp when he was about to light a cigarette. At that moment, the fire fell on John's coat, which began to burn right on him. John began chaotically trying to take off his coat, but the buttons were stuck and would not unfasten. The tramp, seeing this, jumped up and helped John pull off his coat. Barely able to catch his breath, John flopped into the tramp's seat as he tossed the burnt clothes away.

“Yeah, gee,” the tramp said thoughtfully, sitting down next to John, “if I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“What, you thought I had nothing better to do late in the evening than to look for some tramp and tell him that he cursed me?” John asked sarcastically.

“Apparently not,” the tramp replied. “But I really don't know how to fix the situation. I did not put much meaning into my words and did not think that something bad would really happen to you. You offended me, so I wished you a bad day. Maybe subconsciously, I wanted you to feel what it's like to be a loser, but I never imagined that you would have a run of bad luck. If I had that kind of power, I wouldn't be sitting here,” the tramp smirked. John stared blankly at the burnt things lying on the ground.

“Okay,” John said, “I really was wrong about you. And I believe that you didn't really mean to harm me. But maybe you could wish me a good day and then this will all be over?”

The tramp scratched his head and said, “You see, it seems to me that a wish must be sincere in order for it to come true. I can't sincerely wish you a good day. I'm sorry this happened to you, and I don't want you to suffer. The only thing I can do is to sincerely wish you that your bad day would be over,” said the tramp.

"No! Don't say anything, this can be interpreted in many ways, and possibly, it won't have the best outcome for me," John replied, and then added, “Do you know what time it is?”

The tramp laughed, “Yes, of course, I’ll check it on my Rolex now.”

“The hell with you,” John waved his hand, “I'll go,” with these words, John headed further down the street.

“Be careful,” the tramp shouted after him, either with a sarcastic or sympathetic tone.

John walked forward, carefully watching his step, when he suddenly heard a rustle. “No, what else?” frightened, crossing his arms over his chest, he cautiously continued to move on, listening to the rustle. Suddenly, a black cat jumped out of the bushes to his feet. The cat began to meow loudly, baring its teeth. John took a few steps back, but the cat began to move closer, hissing and meowing loudly. John slowly backed away, fearing that the cat would sneeze on his face, when he suddenly felt that the sidewalk was ending. He felt the ground slip away from under his feet again, but this time he fell onto the roadway. The dark street was suddenly lit up by two rapidly approaching lights. John realized that, for the first time this evening, a car was driving down the road. He tried to get up, but felt that his leg was numb and he could not move it. The car was getting closer and closer.

"That's it," thought John, "I'm out of my bad day." He closed his eyes and braced himself for the worst. However, he heard the wheels whistle to his right from the hard braking. When he opened his eyes, John saw that the car had stopped in the oncoming lane. A frightened young guy ran out of the car and approached John.

“Sir, are you all right?” the guy asked with a trembling voice.

"What time is it now?" John asked him.

"What?" asked the guy, not expecting such a question.

“Please tell me what time it is,” John pleaded plaintively. The driver hesitated, fumbling for his phone in his pockets. Finally, he managed to find it. He looked at the display and said, "It's one minute after midnight."