Day 22-the bus ride and iron bars

He clutches the small flower tightly in his old rough hands. The bright red of the rose in stark contrast to the old faded grey suit, that seems two sizes to big for him. He sits on the cold plastic bus seat, his blue eyes almost as faded as his suit. He stares out the window, the old worn out buildings, and the broken sidewalk seem to mimic the reflection of himself. Once full of life, now broken down, and fighting against time itself to survive. The bus comes to a halt as more people make their way onto the bus, but he doesn't even notice. The bus lurches back to life as it continues to make its way through the less glamorous part of the city. Yellow flickering streetlights lighting the dark, and casting strange shadows as daylight begins to fade. His old hand reaches slowly and finds the cold metal wire. He pulls it making no other movements as the bus continues to make its way to the next stop. The old man stands, and slowly makes his way to the front of the bus. A flareup of pain as he makes his way down the stairs, and out the door. Nothing but a small grunt is heard, as his feet finally reach the cracked asphalt of the street. The bus pulls away taking with it the bright lights, and all the other passengers. He stands there for a moment on the sidewalk, and watches as the bus becomes nothing but a memory. He leans heavily on his cane as he slowly makes his way across the street. One foot in front of the other, favoring his cane as much as possible. When he reaches the other side, he stops in front of the huge old gate. Their black iron bars loom over him and unlike the rest of the city seem to be immune to the weathers of time. The gate is closed, he stands there looking at the barrier that keeps him from his destination, and all he can do is cry. The tears roll down his face and he drops the flower unto the trash strewn sidewalk. Twenty five years and he has never missed his brothers birthday. As he stands outside the cemetery gates, with tears in his eyes he remembers. His mind flashes back to all the memories he and his brother shared, the late nights, the fights, dads funeral, and his brothers wedding. Each event significant and beautiful in there own respects. Still part of him feels as if he has failed, visiting his brothers grave every year on his brothers birthday was something he promised to do. He stands there staring at the dark bars that torment him and mock his very presence, they might as well be an ocean separating him from his brothers resting place. He turns and walks away limping back to the bus stop, that will take him back home.