Poetic Injustice

Josh sighed.

A world-weary sigh.

A sigh that rose from deep in his belly and puffed out his chest.

As his thudding heart squeezed in his swollen chest, the cruelty of the situation was not lost on him. The poet in him recognised the trappings of an epic adventure starting to unfold. A quest to uncover love in adversity, featuring him as the valiant protagonist. To be so close to capturing the heart of his beloved only to have his hopes quashed by the merciless villainy of fate, was too much to bear.

On the eve of lockdown, Josh had planned the perfect evening. His intended had tentatively agreed to a meeting and he had planned the perfect night to win this dazzling beauty.

The devil was in the detail. He had booked an inexpensive but classy restaurant. The table would take in a view of the beautiful open fire; close enough for the flames to dance, and flicker reflected in their glasses, casting seductive shadows in their wake; but not so close that the heat would sour the mood by causing unpleasant staining on his underarms. The music was light and unobtrusive, creating just the right ambience for a romantic interlude. There were sufficient funds in Josh’s bank account and he had good enough intel to purchase a decent wine to hint at his sophistication and familiarity with the finer things in life. He was also aware of the ability of a decent bottle of red to lubricate the evening without breaking the budget.  

The menu was simple, good ingredients locally sourced and cooked well. Nothing too spicy or odorous but simple light dressings and marinades followed by decadent little desserts that were light and fluffy, leaving you satisfied not stuffed.

Josh found himself musing about the journey home. They would walk through the starlit streets, maybe he would take her hand. There might be a kiss, but he was a gentleman – he would never tell nor would he press for anything further. The gentle ache of longing when she coquettishly thanked him for a wonderful evening would sustain him until the next time.

Josh hummed softly to himself, a pleasing tune he had listened to on the car radio – it failed to capture the spark of passion igniting in him but did speak of affections of the heart. He rummaged through his wardrobe searching for the outfit he had in mind. The plan was to keep it simple, not to appear to be trying too hard. Well fitting jeans with smart shoes and a blue shirt worn open at the neck. A blazer and his signature scarf to complete the look and he virtually skipped to the door scooping up his keys and pocketing his wallet.

However, before he reached the front door the door handle turned and it opened towards him to reveal his saintly mother returning home after a long shift.

“Sweetheart, so glad to catch you before you had a wasted trip. Have you seen the news?”

Josh shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

“I know you were looking forward to your night out, but the pubs and restaurants have been forced to close.”

Josh had just stared at his dear old Mum, aghast willing her words to make sense. She went on to explain that with the building crisis and the risk of placing an undue burden on emergency services, that various businesses had been asked to close – immediately and indefinitely.

So, Josh found himself skulking in his room, sullen and sombre. Bitterly frustrated by his cancelled evening and no notion of when the opportunity would next arise. He felt restless and went in search of an outlet for his angst.

Then he spotted it – his guitar.

“Oh Hello!”

Josh picked up the beloved instrument and held it lovingly to his chest.

He strummed the strings and was rewarded by an anguished cry reverberating back at him. He thought back with dissatisfaction to the charmless tune he had been humming earlier. Taking the instrument by the neck and gathering notebook and pen, he settled on his bed, strumming gently experimenting with a series of chords readying himself to write the greatest love song the world had ever heard.