a little fence of alphabet...

I was having dinner at the hawker centre and I saw this old man eating by himself, a full plate of chicken and eggs and vegetables, two mugs of coffee by the side. He looked very happy and contented but I couldn't help wonder if he was all alone, not just then but always, because he had no one else in his life. I took a careful look at him. Short, cropped, greyish-white hair, a face of wrinkles, sagging cheeks and eye-bags, skinny neck and forearms. He was attacking his food with voracity; clearly, he had a good appetite, or he must have been very hungry. By now I had finished eating and was walking slowly away from the place. But I kept my eyes on the man. He continued to eat his dinner, oblivious to his surroundings. I felt a little sorry for him, I wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps I was trying to picture myself at his age, old and wrinkled and alone, having dinner by myself and making the best of it by giving my full attention to the food in front of me. And after the dinner, what next? Back home to a flat that is cold and silent and a little dank from lack of ventilation. How is it like to be alone in this world, to spend my life by myself and share nothing with no one not because I don't want to but because there is nobody to share it with? I shuddered as I walked out from the food centre, a little wind was blowing and I was glad I had some warm clothing on.