Hopeful Encounter Essay Research Paper Hopeful EncounterThe

Hopeful Encounter Essay, Research Paper

Hopeful Encounter

The sun was setting. Far to the east, threatening black clouds arose from the fumes of

pollution from the several smokestacks towering over the city. The streets were pocks marked

and dented with the recent shower of acid rain. Hot boiling steam from the sewers made the

temperature of day much hotter than it really was. Just outside the borders of the city is a lake

covered with muck and crude oil spills. Death and despair floated aimlessly on the surface of the

inhospitable body of water. Corpses of dead fish, seagulls… bobbed just under the rim of the

black slime.

The black slime sensing fresh prey, extended its corrupt and revolting tendrils

farther…until it caught another unsuspecting victim, choking and engulfing, destroying, leaving

just another empty shell behind, devoid of any life. Night set in; the stars were obscured by thick

blankets of smoke. The day was done. Stores got ready to lock up and streetlights were turned on

to aid the breadwinners, so they may travel safely. Few were fortunate enough to own

automobiles so they could avoid the cold dangerous streets and dark alleyways. Most shops were

already abandoned, finished for the day. Yet few doors were still open, desperate for any last

minute customers. One such shopkeeper was Phil Anderson. Anderson had worked as a

pharmacist for most of his life. At forty, he had little to show for.

The pollution that caused the gradual decay of the city had had negative effects on

business, as well as the environment. Phil, though by all means not an old man, showed signs of

premature aging. His skin was pale and dry, wrinkled by the everyday punishment of the

deteriorating surroundings. Few strands of grayish white hair lined his almost bald, dandruff

infested scalp. Looking at Phil with his characteristic limp, slouched posture and bulging belly

one might think him an extremely unathletic person. But then again it was not entirely his fault.

His eyes were red and bloodshot, the glasses he wore only made these features more obvious.

With shaking skinny hands, Phil slowly put away the last of the items on top of the counter.

Finally done, he flicked off the lights and rummaged through his pockets for his keys. Looking

one last time to make sure the shop was in order, Phil locked up the store and left. He failed t o

notice a dark shadow spying on him as he counted the bills he had earned today, and put it away

into his black leather wallet.

The tall dark figure studied the pharmacist a while longer before trailing him. The narrow

dirty street smelled of weeks old garbage and animal wastes. Smog was still thick in the air

causing him to cough repeatedly. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Remembering his

air filter in his pocket, Phil gingerly took it out and put it on. Feeling much better Phil continued

down the street, heaving a sigh of relief. He headed towards home, but soon remembering that he

always stops by the Charleston Bar for a drink or two, Phil abruptly changed direction. Sounds of

laughter and grumbling reached his ears as Phil pushed open the doors of the Charleton. The

Charlton is located at Bradleys Street, just a couple of blocks away from Phil’s Pharmacy. Often

did Phil come here to unload and forget his problems. This old bar is small and a little rundown

but by no means deserted. Though built with concrete, The Charleton was wooden inside. It was

dimly lit by old-fashioned lanterns placed along the walls, that gave it an atmosphere of

relaxation. At least the problems of the world can be temporarily forgotten in here, drowned out

in a pint of beer.

A low slanted ceiling hung over head. Years of exposure to acid rain caused the wood to

decay. Wood fillings was occasionally used to patch up the holes. Although the variety of

alcoholic beverages served here was not abundant, the ones they did have were quite popular.

Their Spinner and Geinis for example, were among the house favorites. Few scattered chairs and

tables were spread around the room in no apparent order. Most were occupied. A middle aged

couple sat in the middle of the room talking softly amongst themselves, minding their own

business. Far in the shadows of the corner was a young lad, who it seemed to Phil, was too

Young to have legally entered the bar.

Clutched in his hands was the weaker of the drinks that the bar offered. Yet the young

inexperienced drinker wobbled heavily in his seat, unaccustomed to anything containing alcohol.

He must have sneaked in, Phil thought casually, many do. These days no one really cares

anymore. Scattered around the rest of the Charleton were the usual bunch, a few bums, workers

who had shops close to the Charleton, and young ones who find the world outside too harsh and

demanding, so they come here to seek shelter. But it was no permanent shelter, Phil knew. They

would have to face their problems all too s

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