Apples Rolling On A Damp Afternoon

Walking down to college this afternoon to finally discharge my assignment into the ether of the marking system I witness something really quite distressing.

At the bus stop outside Jam Circus a guy in his mid-twenties stands with his shopping. He’s a bit beardy, hair a bit tousled. A bit like me at the moment; he’s probably a student somewhere. As the bus approaches he picks up his shopping and the one bag handle rips. Loose apples fall out to the floor and roll like red and green marbles across the concrete slabs. Some pass through puddles, some whiz off down the road, a couple bounce off the edge of the kerb and into the gutter.

“Oh no,” the guy says sounding quite upset.

People around scramble to grab the apples for him. Arms outstretched they try to push them back into the remains of his bag, or into his hands, which just hang by his sides. Everyone seems quite keen to help.

But he’s just staring into the middle distance and then, ever-so slowly, he squats down and puts his hands over his head so his arms cover his face.

“Noooo,” he groans in little more than a whisper.

“Hey, it’s okay,” a woman proffering an apple says. “We’ve got them.”

“It’s all spoilt. They’re all ruined,” he says a little louder.

He ignores those trying to help and gives what can only be described as an anguished howl. I’ve never heard anything like it, but it seemed to come from deep inside. It was the sound of despair. I don’t know how else to put it.

Finally he burst into tears. Great big, shuddering sobs.

I felt really quite sad watching this spectacle. I felt like I was intruding just observing him. It’s not like I was gawping, but it was taking place right in front of me. Part of me wanted to help, but I don’t know what the problem was or if, indeed, there was anything anyone could have done for the poor guy.

It puts things in perspective, though. I mean, we all have our problems, but what could have made someone break down like that?

Anyone would have thought the Tory's wet dream of winning the London mayoral race had a chance of coming true.

Oh.

Crap.